


A\~m 



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OHAS. A. SIRINGO. 






LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



Shelf. A.S..£3^ 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




THE AUTHOR, 

In Cow Boy Uniform. 



Copyrighted by Chas. A. SiRiNGO, 1886 
\ All rights reserved. 



A TEXAS COW BOY 



OR, 



FIFTKKN YKARS 



ON THE 



Hurricane Deck of a Spanish Pony. 



TAKEN FROM REAL LIFE 



BY 

CHAS. A. SIRINGO, 



AN OLD STOVE UP "COW PUNCHER," WHO HAS SPENT 

NEARLY TWENTY YEARS ON THE GREAT 

WESTERN CATTLE RANGES. 






SIRINGO & DOBSON, PubUshers, 

Chicago, III. 

issa. 







THE AUTHOR 

after he became stove up— financially, as well as otherwise. 



ii-'btiL^ 



Chapter. 

I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XL 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXI. 

XXII. 

XXIII. 
XXIV. 
XXV. 
XXVI. 
XXVII. 
XXVIII. 

XXIX. 

XXX. 



INDEX. 

Page. 
My Boyhood Days 1^ 

My Introduction to the late war 20 

My First Lesson in Cow Punching 31 

Mv second experience in St. Louis 43 

A New experience »'^ 

Adopted and sent to school 61 

Back at last to the Lone Star State 68 

Learning to rope wild steers 75 

Owning my first cattle ^4 

A start up the Chisholm tjrail 95 

Buys a boat and becomes a sailor 103 

Back to my favorite occupation, that of 

a wild and woolly Cow Boy 112 

Mother and I meet at last 119 

On a tare in Wichita, Kansas 129 

A lonely trip down the Cimeron 141 

My first experience roping a Buffalo 150 

An exciting trip after thieves 158 

Seven weeks among Indians 164 

A lonely ride of eleven hundred miles 176 

Another start up the Chisholm trail 186 

A trip which terminated in the capture - 

of "Billy the Kid" 196 

Billy the Kid's capture 215 

A trip to the Rio Grande on a mule 223 

Waylaid by unknown parties 231 

Lost on the Staked Plains 239 

A trip down the Reo Pecos 2or> 

A true sketch of "Billy the Kid's" life 269 

Wrestling with a dose of Small Pox on 

the Llano Esticado 285 

In love with a Mexican girl 299 

A sudden leap from Cow Boy to Merchant ....309 



INDEX TO ADDENDA. 



Part I. — Cost of raising a three-year old steer 

Part II. — Driving young steers "up the trail." 

Part III. — What a young man can do in ten years with a 

start of 100 two-year old heifers. 
Part IV. — The much abused cow-pony. 
Part V. — Cow-boys' wages — and cost of outfit. 
Part VI. — Losses on a cattle ranch from deaths, theft, etc. 
Part VII. — Raising cow-ponies on the range. 



To the memory of Mr. and Mrs. W. R. Myers of New 
Orleans we affectionately inscribe the first 316 pages of this 
little volume. — And to that kind-hearted and outspoken 
gentleman, the Hon. "Brick" Pomeroy of New York City, the 
Addenda is respec*^''jlly dedicated by 

The Author. 



PREFACE. 

My excuse for writing this book is money — and 
lots of it. 

I suppose the above would suffice, but as time is 
not very precious I will continue and tell how the 
idea of writing a book first got into my head: 

While ranching on the Indian Territory line, 
close to Caldwell, Kansas, in the winter of '82 and 
'82,, we boys — there being nine of us — made an iron- 
clad rule that whoever was heard swearing; or caueht 
picking grey backs off and throwing them on the 
floor without first killing them, should pay a fine of 
ten cents for each and every offense. The proceeds 
to be used for buying choice literature — something 
that would have a tendency to raise us above the 
average cow-puncher. Just twenty-four hours after 
making this rule we had three dollars in the pot — 
or at least in my pocket, I having been appointed 
treasurer. 

As I was going to town that night to see my 
Sunday girl, I proposed to the boys that, while up 
there, I send the money off for a years subscription 
to some good newspaper. The question then came 



^X PREFACE. 

Up, what paper shall it be ? We finally agreed to 
leave it to a vote — each man to write the one of his 
choice on a slip of paper and drop it in a hat. 
There being two young Texans present who could 
neither read nor write, we let them speak their 
choice after the rest of us got our votes deposited. 
At the word given them to cut loose they both yelled 
" Police Gazette", and on asking why they voted for 
that wicked Sheet, they both replied as though with 
one voice: "Cause we can read the pictures." We 
found, on counting the votes that the Police Gazette 
had won, so it was subscribed for. 

With the first copy that arrived was the beginning 
of a continued story, entitled "Potts turning Paris 
inside out." Mr. Potts, the hero, was an old stove- 
up New York preacher, who had made a raise of 
several hundred thousand dollars and was over in 
Paris blowing it in. I became interested in the 
story, and envied Mr. Potts very much. I wished 
for a few hundred thousand so I could do likewise; 
I lay awake one whole night trying to study up a 
plan by which I could make the desired amount. 
But, thinks I, what can an uneducated cow puncher 
do now-a-days to make such a vast sum ? In trying 
to solve the question my mind darted back a few 



PREFACE. XI 

years, when, if I had taken time by the forelock, I 
might have now been wallowing in wealth with the 
rest of the big cattle kings — or to use a more appro- 
priate name, cattle thieves. But alas ! thought I, the 
days of honorable cattle stealing is past, and I must 
turn my mind into a healthier channel. 

The next morning while awaiting breakfast I 
happened to pick up a small scrap of paper and 
read: "To the young man of high aims literature 
offers big inducements, providing he gets into an 
untrodden field." 

That night I lay awake again, trying to locate 
some "cussed" untrodden field, where, as an author, 
I might soar on high — to the extent of a few hun- 
dred thousand at least. 

At last, just as our pet rooster, "Deacon Bates" 
was crowing for day, I found a field that I had never 
heard of any one trampling over — a "nigger" love 
story. So that night I launched out on my new 
novel, the title of which was, "A pair of two-legged 
coons." My heroine, Miss Patsy Washington was 
one shade darker than the ace of spades, while her 
lover, Mr. Andrew Jackson, was three colors darker 
than herself. My plot was laid in African Bend on 
the Colorado river in Southern Texas. 



XII PREFACE. 

Everything went on nicely, until about half way 
through the first chapter, when Mr. Jackson was 
convicted and sent to Huntsville for stealine a 
neighbors hog; and while I was trying to find a 
substitute for him, old Patsy flew the track and 
eloped with a Yankee carpet-bagger. That was 
more than I could endure, so picking up the man- 
uscript I threw it into the fire. Thus ended my first 
attempt at Authorship. 

I then began figuring up an easier field for my 
inexperienced pen, and finally hit updn the idea of 
writing a history of my own short, but rugged life, 
which dear reader you have before you. But 
whether it will bring me in "shekels" enough to 
capsize Paris remains yet to be "disskivered" as 
the Negro says. 



A TEXAS COW BOY. 



Chapter I. 
MY BOYHOOD DAYS. 

It was a bright morning, on the 7th day of Feb- 
ruary 1855, as near as I can remember, that your 
humble Servant came prancing into this wide and 
wicked world. 

By glancing over the map you will find his birth- 
place, at the extreme southern part of the Lone 
Star State, on the Peninsula of Matagorda, a narrow 
strip of land bordered by the Gulf of Mexico on the 
south and Matagorda Bay on the north. 

This Peninsula is from one to two miles wide and 
seventy five miles long. It connects the mainland 
at Caney and comes to a focus at Deckrows Point 
or "Salura Pass." About midway between the two 
was situated the "Dutch Settlement," and in the 
centre of that Settlement, which contained only a 
dozen houses, stood the little frame cottage that first 
gave me shelter. 



14 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

My father who died when I was only a year old, 
came from the sunny clime of Italy, while my dear 
old mother drifted from the Boggs of good "ould" 
Ireland. Am I not a queer conglomerate — a sweet- 
scented mixture indeed! 

Our nearest neighbor was a kind old soul by the 
name of John Williams, whose family consisted of 
his wife and eleven children. 

In the fall of 1859 I took my first lessons in 
school, my teacher being a Mr. Hale from Illinois. 

The school house, a little old frame building, 
stood off by itself, about a mile from the Settle- 
ment, and we little tow-heads, sister and I, had 
to hoof it up there every morning, through the 
grassburrs, barefooted ; our little sunbrowned feet 
had never been incased in shoe-leather up to that 
time. 

To avoid the grassburrs, sometimes on getting 
an early start we would go around by the Gulf 
beach which was quite a distance out of our way. 
In taking this route though, I would gen'ferally be 
late at school, for there were so many little things 
to detain me — such as trying to catch the shadow 
of a flying sea gull, or trying to lasso sand crabs 
on my stick horse. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. I 5 

Crowds of Cow Boys used to come over to the 
Peninsula from the mainland and sometimes have 
occasion to rope wild steers in my presence — hence 
me trying to imitate them. 

I remember getting into a scrape once by taking 
the beach route to school; sister who was a year 
older than I, was walking along the water edge 
picking up pretty shells while I was riding along on 
my stick horse taking the kinks out of my rope — 
a piece of fishline — so as to be ready to take in the 
first crab that showed himself. Those crabs went in 
large droves and sometimes ventured quite a dis- 
tance out from the Gulf, but on seeing a person 
would break for the water. 

It was not long before I spied a large drove on 
ahead, pulling their freight for the water. I put 
spurs to my pony and dashed after them. I man- 
aged to get one old fat fellow headed off and turned 
towards the prairie. I threw at him several times 
but he would always go through the loop before I 
could pull it up. He finally struck a hole and dis- 
appeared. 

I was determined to get him out and take another 
whirl at him, so dropping my horse and getting 



1 6 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

down on all fours I began digging the sand 
away with my hands, dog fashion. 

About that time sister came up and told me to 
come on as I would be late at school. 

I think I told her to please go to Halifax, as I was 
going to rope that crab before I quit or "bust." At 
any rate she went off, leaving me digging with all 
my might. 

Every now and then I would play dog by sticking 
my snoot down in the hole to smell. But I rammed 
it down once too often. Mr. Crab was nearer the 
surface than I thought for. He was laying for me. 
I gave a comanche yell, jumped ten feet in the air 
and lit out for home at a 2 : 40 gait. One of his 
claws was fastened to my upper lip while the other 
clamped my nose with an iron-like grip. 

I met Mr. William Berge coming out to the beach 
after a load of wood, and he relieved me of my un- 
comfortable burden. He had to break the crabs 
claws off to get him loose. 

I arrived at school just as Mr. Hale was ringing 
the bell after recess. He called me up and wanted 
to know what was the matter with my face, it was 
so bloody. Being a little George W., minus the 
hatchet, I told him the truth. Suffice to say he laid 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. I 7 

me across his knee and made me think a nest of 
bumble bees were having a dance in the seat of my 
breeches — or at least where the seat should have 
been. I never had a pair of pants on up to that 
time. Had worn nothing but a long white shirt 
made of a flour sack after some of the "big bugs" 
in Matagorda had eaten the flour out. 

The fall of 1861 Mr. Hale broke up school and 
left for Yankeedom to join the blue coats. And 
from that time on I had a regular picnic, doing 
nothing and studying mischief. Billy Williams was 
my particular chum; we were constantly together 
doing some kind of devilment. The old women 
used to say we were the meanest little imps in the 
Settlement, and that we would be hung before we 
were twenty-one. Our three favorite passtimes 
were, riding the milk calves, coon hunting and sail- 
ing play-boats down on the bay shore. 

Shortly after school broke up I wore my first 
pair of breeches. Uncle "Nick" and aunt "Mary," 
mothers' brother and sister, who lived in Galveston, 
sent us a trunk full of clothes and among them was 
a pair of white canvas breeches for me. 

The first Sunday after the goods arrived mother 
made me scour myself all over and try my new 



I 8 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

pants on. They were large enough for two kids of 
my size, but mother said I could wear them that 
day if I would be a good boy, and that she would 
take a few tucks in them before the next Sunday. 
So after getting me fixed up she told me not to leave 
the yard or she would skin me alive, etc. 

Of course I should have been proud of the new 
addition to my wardrobe and like a good little boy 
obeyed my mother; but I wasn't a good little boy 
and besides the glory of wearing white pants was 
insignificant compared to that of an exciting coon 
hunt with dogs through brush, bramble and rushes. 
You see I had promised Billy the evening before 
to go coon hunting with him that day. 

I watched my chance and while mother was 
dressing sister in her new frock I tiptoed out of 
the house and skipped. 

Billy was waiting for me with the four dogs and 
off we went for the Bay shore. 

Arriving there the dogs disappeared in the tall 
rushes barking at every jump; we jumped right in 
after them, up to our waists in the mud. We had 
a genuine good all-day coon hunt, killing several 
coons and one wild cat. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 1 9 

We gave up the hunt about sundown, and I 
started for home, the glory of my new pants having 
departed. I was indeed a sorry looking sight, cov- 
ered with mud from head to foot. 

I entered the house with some fear and trembling, 
and well I might, for mother was "laying" for me 
with the old black strap. The result was I slept 
sound that night, but couldn't sit down without pain 
for a week afterwards. 




Chapter II. 
MY INTRODUCTION TO THE LATE WAR. 

It was Monday morning — a day that I despised. 
Need you wonder, for it was mother's wash day 
and I had to carry wood from the Gulf beach to 
keep the "pot boihng." 

I tried to play off sick that morning but it would 
not work, for mother had noticed that I got away 
with two plates of mush besides three hard boiled 
eggs for breakfast. 

Before starting out after my first load of wood, 
I hid the big old strap which hung by the door, 
for I felt it in my bones there was war in the 
air. I always did have a tough time of it on wash 
days, and I knew this Monday would bring the 
same old story. 

At last mother got the fire started under the wash- 
pot which stood out in the yard and told me for 
about the twentieth time to go after an armful of 
wood. I hesitated, in hopes that she would take a 
notion to go herself, but when she stamped her foot 
and picked up a barrel stave I knew I had better be 



A TEXAS COW BOY. 2 I 

going, for when she got her Irish blood up it was 
danoferoiis to Hnfrer. 

When I got out among the drift wood on the 
beach, I treed a cotton-tail rabbit up a hollow log, 
and I made up my mind to get Mr. cotton-tail out, 
wood or no wood. 

I began digging the sand away from the log as 
fast as I could so as to be able to roll it down 
into the Gulf and drown the rabbit out. 

It was a very hot day and digging the heavy sand 
with only my hands and a stick was slow, tiresome 
work. The result was I fell asleep with my head 
under the log and my bare legs sticking out in the 
hot June sun. I dreamt I died and went to a dread- 
ful hot country and Satan was there piling hot coals 
on me. 

Finally the sun went under a cloud, or at least I 
suppose it did, for the burning pain left me and I 
began to dream of Heaven; I thought the Lord was 
there sitting upon His throne of gold in the midst 
of scores of happy children. Calling me up to him 
he pointed to a large pile of fence rails down in a 
beautiful valley and said : "my boy you go down and 
carry every one of those rails up here to me before 
you stop." 



2 2 • A TEXAS COW BOY, 

His words landed up against my happy thoughts 
like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. I had been 
thinking of what a picnic I would have with the 
other children. 

A walk of about one mile brought me to the pile 
of rails; there were more in the pile than I could 
count; I shouldered one of the litrhtest and struck 
out up the steep hill, thinking how I would like to 
be back with mother, even if I had to carry an 
armful of wood from the beach now and then. 

When about half way up the hill I heard a terri- 
ble noise such as I had never heard before, it awak- 
ened me, and in trying to jump up I bumped my 
head against the log, and also filled my eyes full of 
sand. 

When I got onto my feet and the sand out of 
my eyes, I discovered the whole beach, east of me, 
thronged with men carrying guns, and marching 
right towards me. The head ones were not over a 
hundred yards off, beating drums and blowing their 
horns. 

It is needless to say I was scared and that I 
ran as fast as my legs could carry me, looking back 
every minute to see if they were after me. It was 
in this way that I ran or sprang right into the midst 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 23 

of Mrs. Zipprian's drove of geese, before I knew 
it. There were several old ganders in the drove 
which used to chase me every chance they got. I 
generally took particular pains to go around them; 
but this time my mind was in a different channel 
from what it had ever been in before, hence my not 
looking out for them. 

As I flew past, two of the old ganders made a dive 
at me, but only one succeeded in catching on; he 
grabbed the tail of my shirt, which stuck straight 
out behind, in his mouth and hung on with blood in 
his eyes. My speed seemed to increase instead of 
slacken, every time the old gander would bounce 
up and come down, his claws would rake the skin 
from the calves of my legs. His death-like grip 
finally broke loose and I felt considerable lighter. 
My mind also, felt somewhat relieved. 

Mother was out in the yard washing, she had 
picked up chips c jugh. to boil the water; the tub 
was sitting upon a box and she was rubbing away 
with all her might, her back towards me. As I was 
looking over my shoulder I ran against her, knock- 
ing her, tub and all over in a pile, myself with them. 

Mother got up first with her right hand in my shirt 
collar, I plead manfully, and tried to tell her about 



24 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

the scores of men, but she was too mad to Hsten, 
she dragged me to where the big black strap should 
have hung, I knew she couldn't find it, therefore 
hoped to get off with a few slaps, but alas, no, she 
spied the mush stick and the way she gave it to me 
with that was a caution! 

The crowd I saw proved to be Dr. Pierceson's 
company of rebels, who had been sent over from 
Matagorda to drill and be ready to fight the blue- 
coats when they came. It was then the summer of 
1862. They located their camp on the beach, about 
a mile from our house, and I used to march with 
them all day long sometimes. The captam, Dr. 
Pierceson, gave me an umbrella stick which I used 
for a gun. 

That coming fall about five thousand Yankees 
landed at Deckrow^s Point on the Peninsula and 
marched by our ranch on their way to the rebel 
camp which was stationed forty miles above, at the 
mouth of Caney Creek. 

They camped one night close to our house and 
filled me up with hard-tack, which was quite a treat 
to a fellow living on mush and milk. 

They had a five or six day fight with the rebels, 
neither of them coming off victorious. We could 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 25 

hear the guns plainly from the "Settlement." Many 
dead men were washed ashore on the beach. My 
sister and I stumbled onto one poor fellow one day, 
shot throuofh the heart. His clothes were orone and 
his wrist was marked "J. T." in India ink. 

After the battle the Yankees marched back to 
Deckrows Point where they remained to the end of 
the war; the rebels still held their ground at the 
mouth of Caney. Every now and then a squad from 
each side would meet at the "Settlement" and have a 
skirmish. I remember once after one of those skir- 
mishes a crowd of Yankees rounded Mr. Williams 
up on the prairie — Billy and I being with him — and 
throwing their pistols in his face told him if they ever 
found him so far from home again they would kill him. 

Their threats didn't scare Mr. Williams the least 
bit, for he afterwards slipped into their camp after 
dark and stole eleven head of their best horses and 
gave them to the rebels. But on his way back from 
the rebel camp, where he went to take the horses 
they caught him and took him aboard of a Yankee 
man-of-war to hang him. They had the rope around 
his neck ready to swing him when the General turned 
him loose, on account of his old age and bravery, 
telling him never to be caught from home again. 



26 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Fighting was going on nearly every day in sight 
of us; sometimes the Yankee gun boats would get 
into the Bay among the rebel boats, and at other 
times they would fight across the narrow strip of 
land, shooting- ripfht over the houses at one another. 

o o 

Many of the cannon balls dropped on the prairie; 
one of them at one time struck within a few feet of 
Mr. Williams, almost burying him in the sand as it 
plowed along on the ground. Poor fellow, he was 
afterwards killed by one, he carried one home and 
taking all the powder out of it, as he supposed, set 
it out in the yard with the hole up, and then told Billy 
to o-et him a coal of fire in the tongfs. He thought 
it would just fiash a little. 

I was present, and not liking the looks of it, crept 
out behind the picket gate, a few yards away, and 
peeped between the pickets. 

The whole family was looking on to see the fun, 
Mattie, one of the little girls, was sitting with her 
arms around a dog's neck, within a few feet of it. 

Billy, arriving with the coal, handed it to his 
father who reached over and let it drop down into 
the hole — where he had taken out the lead screw. 

It seemed to me that the coal hadn't reached the 
hole when the thing exploded. For a few seconds 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 2*] 

everything was enveloped in smoke; when the 
smoke disappeared sufficiently for me to see, the 
whole sky seemed to be a blaze of fire, and finally 
Mr. Williams emerged out of the heavy cloud of 
smoke hopping on one leg. 

A piece of the bomb-shell had taken off part of 
one foot on the left leg and another piece had 
plowed through the calf of his right leg; part of 
one ear A^as also gone. He only lived a few days. 

A piece of the shell took off one of the dog's 
legs without even touching Mattie, the little girl 
who had her arms around his neck. 

Several pieces went through the house, and one 
piece went through the picket gate right over my 
head. The next day Billy and I found a large piece 
sticking in the wall of an old vacant house a mile 
from where it exploded. 

During the war several ships were driven ashore 
on the beach by the Yankee gun boats. The folks 
at the "Settlement" would get all the plunder. One 
ship was loaded with dry goods and from that time 
on I wore breeches. 

About a year after the war broke out the rebels 
gathered up all the cattle on the Peninsula and drove 
them to the mainland, where they were turned 



28 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

loose with the thousands upon thousands of wild 
cattle already over there. Their idea in doing so 
was to keep the Yankees — whom they knew would, 
hold the lower part of the Peninsula, they having 
the best gunboats — from getting fresh beef to eat. 
There was only one cow left in the whole "Settle- 
ment" and that was our old "Browny;" mother had 
begged manfully for them to leave her, for she knew 
we children would starve to death living on mush 
straight. 

When the war broke up everybody was happy. 
We cheered for joy when Mr. Joe Yeamans broughi 
the eood news from town. 

Shortly after this all of the men, and boys that 
were laree enoueh, went over to the mainland to 
gather up the Peninsula cattle. On their arrival they 
found it a bigger job than they had figured on, for 
they were scattered over two or three hundred 
miles of country and as wild as deer. 

Billy and I thought it very hard that we could 
not go and be Cow Boys too; but we had lots of fun 
all by ourselves, for we had an old mule and two or 
three ponies to ride, so you see we practiced riding 
in anticipation of the near future, when we would 
be large enough to be Cow Boys. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 29 

After being gone about three months the crovv^d 
came back, bringing with them several hundred 
head of cattle, which they had succeeded in gather- 
ing. Among them were about twenty head be- 
lonorinof to mother. 

The crowd went right back after more. This 
stimulated Billy and I to become a crowd of Cow 
Boys all by ourselves, therefore we put in most of 
our time lassoing and riding wild yearlings, etc. 
We hardly stayed at home long enough to get our 
meals. Mother had to get her own wood in those 
days, for sister had gone to school in Galveston. 
Of course I always had to come home at night, 
therefore mother would get satisfaction out of me 
with the black strap or mush stick, after I was 
snugly settled in bed, for my waywardness and 
trifling habits. 

In the spring of 1867, a cattle man by the name 
of Faldien brought his family over to the Peninsula 
for their health and rented part of our house to 
live in. 

After getting his wife and babies located in their 
new quarters, he started back home, in Mata- 
gorda, to make preparations for spring work, he 
having to rig up new outfits, etc. He persuaded 



30 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

mother to let me go with him, and learn to run 
cattle. When she consented I was the happiest 
boy in the "Settlement," for my life long wish was 
about to be orratified. 

o 




Chapter III. 
MY FIRST LESSON IN COW PUNCHING. 

The next day after arriving in town, Mr. Faldien 
sent me out to his ranch, twenty miles, on Big 
Boggy. I rode out on the "grub" wagon with the 
colored cook. That night, after arriving at the 
ranch, there being several men already there, we 
went out wild boar hunting. We got back about 
midnight very tired and almost used up. Such a 
hunt was very different from the coon hunts Billy 
and I used to have at the "Settlement." Our does 
were badly gashed up by the boars, and it was a 
wonder some of us hadn't been served the same way. 

In a few days Mr. Faldien came out to the ranch, 
bringing with him several men. After spending a 
few days gathering up the cow-ponies, which hadn't 
been used since the fall before, we started for Lake 
Austin — a place noted for wild cattle. 

During the summer I was taken sick and had to 
go home. I was laid up for two months with typhoid 
fever. Every one thought I would die. 



32 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

That fall, about October, mother married a man 
by the name of Carrier, who hailed from Yankeedom. 
He claimed that he owned a farm in Michigan, be- 
sides lots of other property. 

He was very anxious to get back to his farm, so 
persuaded mother to sell out lock, stock and barrel 
and go with him. 

She had hard work to find a buyer as money was 
very scarce, but finally she got Mr. George Burk- 
heart, a merchant in Matagorda, to set his own 
price on things and take them. 

The house and one hundred and seventy-five 
acres of land only brought one hundred and seventy- 
five dollars. The sixty head of cattle that we had 
succeeded in getting back from the mainland went 
at one dollar a head and all others that still re- 
mained on the mainland — thrown in for good 
measure. 

At last everything for sale was disposed of and 
we got "Chris" Zipprian to take us to Indianola in 
his schooner. We bade farewell to the old home- 
stead with tears in our eyes. I hated more than 
anything else to leave old "Browny" behind for she 
had been a friend in need as well as a friend indeed. 
Often when I would be hungry and afraid to go 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 33 

home for fear of mother and the mush stick, she 
would let me go up to her on the prairie calf fash- 
ion and get my milk. She was nearly as old as 
myself. 

At Indianola we took the Steamship "Crescent 
City" for New Orleans. The first night out we ran 
into a large Brig and came very near going under. 
The folks on the Brig were nearly starved to death, 
having been drifting about for thirty days without a 
rudder. We took them in tow, after getting our 
ship in trim again, and landed them safely in Gal- 
veston. 

There was a bar-room on our ship, and our new 
lord and master, Mr. Carrier, put in his spare time 
drinking whisky and gambling; I do not think he 
drew a sober breath from the time we left Indianola 
until we landed in New Orleans, by that time he 
had squandered every cent received for the home- 
stead and cattle, so mother had to go down into 
her stocking and bring out the little pile of gold 
which she had saved up before the war for ''hard 
times," as she used to say. With this money she 
now bought our tickets to Saint Louis. We took 
passage, I think, on the "Grand Republic." There 
was also a bar-room on this boat, and after wheed- 



34 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

ling mother out of the remainder of her funds, he 
drank whisky and gambled as before, so we landed 
in Saint Louis without a cent. 

Mother had to pawn her feather mattress and 
pillows for a month's rent in an old dilapidated 
frame building on one of the back streets. It con- 
tained only four rooms, two up stairs and two down; 
the lower rooms were occupied by the stingy old 
landlord and family; we lived in one of the upper 
rooms, while a Mr. Socks, whose wife was an in- 
valid, occupied the other. 

The next day after getting established in our new 
quarters, the "old man," as I called him, struck out 
to find a job; he found one at a dollar a day shov- 
eling coal. 

At first he brought home a dollar every night, 
then a half and finally a quarter. At last he got to 
coming home drunk without a nickel in his pocket. 
He finally came up missing; we didn't know what 
had become of him. Mother was sick in bed at 
the jtime from worrying. I went out several times 
hunting work but no one would even give me a 
word of encouragement, with the exception of an 
old Jew who said he was sorry for me. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 3^ 

A little circumstance happened, shortly after the 
"old man" pulled his trifling carcass for parts un- 
known, which made me a better boy and no doubt 
a better man than I should have been had it never 
happened. 

Everything was white without, for it had been 
snowing for the past two days. It was about five 
o'clock in the evening and the cold piercing north 
wind was whistling through the unceiled walls of 
our room. Mother was sound asleep, while sister 
and I sat shivering over an old, broken stove, which 
was almost cold, there being no fuel in the house. 

Sister began crying and wondered why the Lord 
let us suffer so ? I answered that may be it was be- 
cause we quit saying our prayers. Up to the time 
we left Texas mother used to make us kneel down 
by the bed-side and repeat the Lord's prayer every 
night before retiring. Since then she had, from 
worrying, lost all interest in Heavenly affairs. 

"Let us say our prayers now, then, brother!" 
said sister drying the tears from her eyes. 

We both knelt down against the old, rusty stove 
and commenced. About the time we had finished 
the door opened and in stepped Mr. Socks with a 
bundle under his arm. "Here children, is a loaf of 



J 



6 A TEXAS COW BOY, 



bread and some butter and I will bring you up a 
bucket of coal in a few moments, for I suppose 
from the looks of the stove you are cold," said the 
good man, who had just returned from his day's ivork. 

Was ever a prayer so quickly heard ? We enjoyed 
the bread and butter, for we hadn't tasted food 
since the morning before. 

The next day was a nice sunny one, and I struck 
out up town to try and get a job shoveling snow 
from the sidewalks. 

The^ first place I tackled was a large stone front 
on Pine street. The kind lady of the establishment 
said she would give me twenty-five cents if I would 
do a good job cleaning the sidewalk in front of the 
house. 

After an hour's hard work I finished, and, after 
paying me, the lady told me to call next day and 
she w^ould give me a job shoveling coal down in the 
cellar, as I had done an extra good job on the side- 
walk. This was encouraging and I put in the 
whole day shoveling snow, but never found any 
more twenty-five cent jobs; most I received for one 
whole hour's work was -ten cents, and then the old 

fat fellow kicked like a bay steer, about the d d 

snow being such an expense. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 37 

From that time on I made a few dimes each day 
sawing wood or shoveHng coal and therefore got 
along splendid. 

I forgot to mention my first evening in Saint 
Louis. I was going home from the bakery when I 
noticed a large crowd gathered in front of a corner 
grocery; I went up to see what they were doing. 
Two of the boys had just gotten through fighting 
when I got there; the store-keeper and four or five 
other men were standino- in the door looking on 
at the crowd of boys who were trying to cap an- 
other fight. 

As I walked up, hands shoved clear to the bottom 
of my pockets, the store-keeper called out, pointing 
at me, "there's a country Jake that I'll bet can lick 
any two boys of his size in the crowd." 

Of course all eyes were then turned onto me, 
which, no doubt, made me look sheepish. One of 
the men asked me where I was from; when I told 
him, the store-keeper exclaimed, "by gum, if he is 
from Texas I'll bet two to one that he can clean out 
any two boys of his size in the crowd." 

One of the other men took him up and they 
made a sham bet of ten dollars, just to get me to 
fight. The two boys were then picked out; one 



38 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

was just about my size and the other considerably 
smaller. They never asked me if I would take a 
hand in the fight until everything was ready. Of 
course I hated to crawl out, for fear they might 
think I was a coward. 

Everything being ready the store-keeper called 
out, "dive in boys!" 

We had it up and down for quite a while, fi- 
nally I got the largest one down, and was putting 
it to him in good shape, when the other one picked 
up a piece of brick-bat and began pounding me on 
the back of the head with it. I looked up to see 
what he was doing and he struck me over one eye 
with the bat. I jumped up and the little fellow took 
to his heels, but I soon overtook him and black- 
ened both of his eyes up in good shape, before the 
other boy, who was coming at full tilt could get there 
to help him. I then chased the other boy back to 
the crowd. That ended the fight and I received 
two ginger-snaps, from the big hearted store- 
keeper, for my trouble. I wore the nick-name of 
"Tex" from that time on, during my stay in that 
neighborhood; and also wore a black eye, where 
the little fellow struck me with the bat, for several 
days afterwards. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 39 

About the middle of January mother received a 
letter from the "old man," with ten dollars enclosed, 
and begging her to come right on without delay as 
he had a good job and was doing well, etc. He 
was at Lebanon, 111., twenty-five miles from the 
city. The sight of ten dollars and the inducements 
he held out made us hope that we would meet with 
better luck there, so we packed up our few traps 
and started on the Ohio and Mississippi railroad. 

On arriving in Lebanon about nine o'clock at 
night we found the "old man" there waiting for us. 

The next morning we all struck out on foot, 
through the deep snow, for Moore's ranch where 
the "old man" had a job chopping cord wood. A 
tramp of seven miles brought us to the little old log 
cabin which was to be our future home. A few 
rods from our cabin stood a white frame house in 
which lived Mr. Moore and family. 

Everything went on lovely for the first week, 
notwithstanding that the cold winds whistled 
through the cracks in our little cabin, and we had 
nothing to eat but corn bread, black coffee and old 
salt pork that Moore could not find a market for. 

The first Saturday after getting established in our 
new home the "old man" went to town and got on 



40 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

a glorious drunk, squandered every nickel he could 
rake and scrape; from that time on his visits to 
town were more frequent than his trips to the 
woods, to work. At last I was compelled to go to 
work for Moore at eight dollars a month, to help 
keep the wolf from our door, and don't you forget 
it, I earned eight dollars a month, working out in 
the cold without gloves and only half clothed. 

Towards spring the "old man" got so mean and 
good-for-nothing that the neighbors had to run him 
out of the country. A crowd of them surrounded 
the house one night, took the old fellow out and 
preached him a sermon; then they gave him until 
morning to either skip or be hung. You bet he 
didn't wait until morning. 

A short while afterwards mother took sister and 
went to town ta hunt work. She left her household 
goods with one of the near neighbors, a Mr. Muck, 
where they still remain I suppose, if not worn out. 
But there was nothing worth hauling off except the 
dishes. I must say the table ware was good; we 
had gotten them from a Spanish vessel wrecked on 
the Gulf beach during the war. 

Mother found work in a private boarding house, 
and sister with a Mrs. Bell, a miller's wife, while I 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 4I 

Still remained with Moore at the same old wages. 

Along in June sometime I quit Moore on account 
of having the ague. I thought I should have money 
enough to take a rest until I got well, but bless you 
I only had ninety cents to my credit, Moore 
had deducted thirty-five dollars the "old man" owed 
him out of my earnings. I pulled for town as mad 
as an old setting hen. But I soon found work again, 
with an old fellow by the name of John Sargent, 
who was to give me eight dollars a month, board 
and clothes and pay my doctor bills. 

About the first of September mother and sister 
went to Saint Louis where they thought wages 
would be higher. They bade me good bye, prom- 
ising to find me a place in the city, so I could be 
with them; also promised to write. 

Shortly afterwards I quit Mr. Sargent with only 
one dollar to my credit; and that I havn't got yet. 
He charged me up with everything I got in the 
shape of clothes, doctor bills, medicine, etc. 

I then went to work for a carpenter, to learn the 
trade, for my board, clothes, etc. I was to remain 
with him three years. My first day's work was 
turning a big heavy stone for him to grind a lot of 
old, rusty tools on. That night after supper I broke 



42 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

my contract, as I concluded that I knew just as 
much about the carpenter's trade as I wished to 
know, and skipped for the country, by moonHght. 

I landed up at a Mr. Jacobs' farm twelve miles 
from town and got a job of work at twelve dollars 
a month. I didn't remain there long though, as I 
had a chill every other day regular, and therefore 
couldn't work much. 

I made up my mind then to pull for Saint Louis 
and hunt mother and sister. I had never heard a 
word from them since they left. After buying a 
small satchel to put my clothes in and paying for a 
ticket to the city, I had only twenty -five cents left 
and part of that I spent for dinner that day. 

I arrived in East Saint Louis about midnight with 
only ten cents left. I wanted to buy a ginger-cake 
or something, as I was very hungry, but hated to 
as I needed the dime to pay my way across the 
river next morning. I wasn't very well posted then, 
in regard to the ways of getting on in the world, or 
I would have spent the dime for something to eat, 
and then beat my way across the river. 



Chapter IV. 
MY SECOND EXPERIENCE IN ST. LOUIS. 

Bright and early next morning I gave my dime 
to the ferryman and pulled out for the busding 
city, where I was soon lost in the large crowd which 
throno^ed the levee. 

I left my satchel in a saloon and struck out to find 
Mr. Socks, hoping he could give me some infor- 
mation as to mother and sister's whereabouts, but I 
was sadly disappointed, he had left that part of the 
city in which he lived when I knew him. 

I put in the rest of the day gazing through the 
show windows, especially of the bakeries, at the 
fat pies, cakes, etc., for I was getting very hungry, 
my last meal being dinner the day before. 

About dark I strolled up to a second-hand book 
store and asked how much a bible, nearly new, 
would bring? The man behind the counter told me 
to brino- it around and he would give whatever it 
was worth. So I struck out after my satchel; I 
hated the idea of pardng with the book for it had 
been presented to me by my late employer's mother 



44 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Mrs. Moore, a nice old lady who had taken a liking 
to me. But you know how it is when a fellow is 
hungry, or would have known had you been in my 
shoes. 

I got twenty-five cents for the bible and imme- 
diately invested fifteen cents of it in a mince pie. 

That night I stowed myself away in an empty 
dry goods box. I did not sleep well, and when I 
did sleep it was to dream of snakes and other ven- 
omous reptiles. 

I put in the whole of the next day hunting work, 
but failed to find it. I had bouoht a five cent ofincjer- 
cake for my dinner and now I got a five cent pie 
for my supper; this broke me fiat and I had nothing 
else that I could sell; so I put up for the night in a 
pile of bailed hay, which was stacked up behind a 
store. 

The next morning I struck out again hunting 
work, but this time on an empty stomach. About 
two o'clock in the afternoon I found a hack driver 
who said he wanted to hire a boy to take care of 
his horses; he said he would not be going home 
until about one o'clock that nicrht and for me to wait 
for him in front of the Court house on Fourth street. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 45 

Just as soon as dark came, I went to the ap- 
pointed place and staid there for fear my man 
would conclude to go home earlier than he ex- 
pected. I was exceedingly happy when the long- 
looked for hour drew near, for I thought it wouldn't 
be long until I would have a good square meal and 
a warm bed to sleep in. 

About two o'clock, while leaning against a lamp- 
post gazing up and down Fourth street, a policeman 
punched me in the ribs and told me to "hunt my 
hole" and that if he caught me out again so late 
at night he would put me in the cooler. 

I pulled out across the street and waited until he 
got out of sight, then I went back to my same old 
stand, thinking that my man would certainly be 
along in a few moments at the outside. Every hack 
that drove by would cause me to have a spell of the 
blues, until another hove in sight — soon to disap- 
pear again. Finally about three o'clock my courage 
and what few sparks of hopes that still remained, 
wilted, for, an empty stomach and sitting up so late 
had given me a terrible headache, which was almost 
past endurance. 

I was sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, with 
my face buried in both hands, crying, when some- 



46 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

one touched me on the shoulder. I was scared at 
first for I thought it was a "peeler;" but my fears 
vanished when I looked up into the gleaming coun- 
tenance of a small, red complexioned man, who 
said in a pleasant tone: — "Is there anything I can 
do for you my little man?" 

His kindness proved too much for me, I burst 
out crying and it was quite awhile before I could 
tell him my trouble. He was terribly mad when I 
told him how the hack man had served me; he told 
me to watch for the hard-hearted wretch next day 
and if I saw him to point him out and he would 
teach him how to play jokes on innocent children. 

He took me to his boarding place, a fancy res- 
taurant, right across the street; he said he was just 
fixing to go to bed when he spied me across the 
street, acting as though in trouble. 

When he found out that I hadn't had a square 
meal for three days he remarked that it was a d — d 
shame and then told the night clerk, who appeared 
to be half asleep, to have me a good supper fixed 
up and to give me a good room. He then bid me 
good night and started to bed, telling me to remain 
there until I found work, if it was a month, that he 
would arrange everything with the proprietor in the 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 47 

morning before he went to work. I thanked him 
with tears in my eyes, for his kindness. 

I was so tired and sleepy that I never woke up 
until nearly noon next day. After eating breakfast, 
I struck out to hunt a job, but failed as usual. 

Three days after, while out hunting work, I 
stopped an old man and asked him if he knew 
where I could find a job? He smiled and said: 
"My boy this is the fourth time you have asked me 
that same question in the last three days. You must 
like my looks, for I have noticed you pass scores 
of men without stopping them." 

I told him I never tackled a man unless he had 
a pleasing countenance, for I had been snapped up 
short by so many; I also told him that I did not 
remember asking him before. 

He finally, after asking me a few questions, said: 
"Follow me and I will find you work before I stop." 

The first place we went into was the Planters' 
House, on Fourth street, between Pine and Chest- 
nut, and he asked the clerk if they needed a bell 
boy. "No," was the short answer he received. 

He then asked where he could find the proprietor. 
"Up in his room. No. — .. on first floor," was the 
answer. 



48 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

We found the "boss" busily writing. My new 
friend plead my case like a dutch uncle and told him 
if I didn't prove to be just what he recommended 
me to be — a wide-awake, get-up-and-get, honest 
boy, that he would pay all damages, etc 

That seemed to setde it, for I w^as told to go 
down to the office and wait for orders. 

I was too happy to live. I thanked the kind old 
gentleman from the bottom of my heart and offered 
to pay him for his trouble as soon as I earned some 
money. He told me I could pay him for his trouble 
by being a good boy. 

After waiting a few minutes in the office, the pro- 
prietor came down and made a bargain with me. 
My wages were to be ten dollars a month. He 
gave me one month's wages in advance, to buy 
clean clothes with. 

I was put on the forenoon watch which went on 
duty at eight in the morning and came off at one in 
the afternoon. There were five of us on at a time. 

We would always make from twenty-five cents to 
five dollars a day while on duty, for we hardly ever 
went to wait on a person but what they would give 
us something in the shape of money. Gamblers 
generally gave us the most; sometimes a lot of 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 49 

them would get together in a room to play cards 
and send down to the bar after their drinks and 
may be send a ten or twenty dollar bill and tell the 
bell boy to keep the change. Widi this money we 
used to have some gay old times taking in the city 
after coming off guard. 

The next fall, nearly one year after landing at 
the "Planters," I had a fight with one of the bell 
boys, Jimmie Byron. He called me a liar and I 
jumped aboard of him. When it was over with, 
the clerk, Mr. Cunningham, called me up to the 
counter and slapped me without saying a word. 

I went right straight to my room, packed up my 
"gripsack" and went to the proprietor for a settle- 
ment. 

He was surprised and wanted to know what in 
the world had gotten into me. 

I told him the whole thing, just as it happened. 
He tried to get me to stay but I was still mad and 
wouldn't listen to him. I had made up my mind 
to buy a pistol, come back and get square with Mr. 
Cunnino-ham for slaDoino- me. 

I left the house with eighteen dollars in my 
pocket; jumped aboard of a street car and rode down 
to the levee. I left my valise at a saloon and then 



50 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Started back to find a gun store. I finally found one 
and gave ten dollars for a fancy little ivory handled 
five-shooter. 

I then started for the "Planters" still as mad as an 
old setting- hen. I had not o-one far when I came 
across a large crowd gathered around one of those 
knife rackets, where you pay a quarter for five rings 
and try to "ring" a knife. 

I watched the thing awhile and finally invested a 
quarter. I got a little "Jim Crow" barlow the first 
throw. That made it interesting, so I bought an- 
other quarters worth, and another until five dollars 
was gone. This did not satisfy me, so I kept on 
until I didn't have a nickel left. 

But wasn't I mad when I realized what I had 
done ! I forgot all about my other troubles and felt 
like breaking my own head instead of Cunning- 
ham's. 

I went to the levee and found out that the "Bart 
Able" would start for New Orleans in a few minutes, 
so I ran to get my satchel, not far off, determined 
on boarding the steamer and remaining there until 
kicked off. Anything to get nearer the land of my 
birth, I thought, even if I had to break the rules 
of a gentleman in doing so. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 5I 

When the Purser came around collecting fares, 
I laid my case before him with tears in my eyes; 
I told him I was willing to work — and hard, too, to 
pay my fare. He finally, after studying awhile, 
said, "Well go ahead, I'll find something for you 
to do." 

Everything went on lovely with me until one 
evening when we stopped at a landing to take on 
some freight, mostly grain. We pulled up by the 
side of an old disabled steamer which was being 
used for a wharf-boat and went to work loading. 
The job given to me was sewing sacks when ever 
one was found out of order. 

There were two sets of men loading, one in the 
stern and the other in the bow, and I was supposed 
to do the sewing at both ends. When they came 
across a holey sack, if I happened to be at the 
other end they would holloa for me and I would go 
running through the narrow passage way, leading 
from one end to the other. 

I was in the stern when the sound of my name 
came from the other end; I grabbed my ball of 
twine and struck out in a dog trot through the 
passage the sides of which were formed of grain 
piled to the ceiling. When about half way through 



52 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

I thought I heard my name called from the end I 
had just left; I stopped to listen and while waiting, 
beino- tired, I went to lean over against the wall of 
sacked grain, but instead of a wall there was an 
old vacated hatchway and over into that I went. 
There beinqf no floorin<r in the boat, there was 
nothing but the naked timbers for my weary bones 
to alight upon. 




Chapter V. 
A NEW EXPERIENCE. 

The next day about noon I came to my senses. 
I found myself all alone in a nice little room on 
a soft bed. I tried to get up but it was useless; my 
back felt as if it was broken. I couldn't think what 
had happened to me. But finally the door opened 
and in stepped a doctor, who explained the whole 
matter. He said the captain, just as the boat was 
fixing to pull out, was walking through the passage 
way when he heard my groans down in the hold 
and getting a lantern, ladder and help, fished me 
out almost lifeless. I was in the captain's private 
room and having the best of care. The back of my 
head was swollen out of shape, it having struck on 
one of the cross timbers, while my back landed 
across another. The doctor said I owed my life to 
the captain for finding me, "for," said he, "if you 
had remained in there twenty minutes longer your 
case would have been hopeless." 



54 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

At last we arrived in Memphis, Tenn. We had 
been traveHng very slowly on account of havinor to 
stop at all the small landings and unload freight or 
take on more. 

After landing at Memphis I took a notion that a 
little walk would help my lame back, so I struck 
out along the river bank, very slowly. 

During my walk I came across a drove of small 
snipe, and having my pistol with me, I shot at 
them. The pistol report attracted the attention of 
two boys who were standing not far off. They 
came over to me, and one of them, the oldest, who 
was on crutches, having only one leg, asked how 
much I would take for my "shooter?" I told him 
I would take ten dollars for it, as I was in need of 
money. He examined it carefully and then said: 
"It's a trade buddy, but you will have to go up to 
that little house yonder, to get the money, as I 
havn't got that much with me." 

The house he pointed out stood off by itself to 
the right of the town, which was situated about a mile 
from the river. The house in question being half a 
mile off, I told him that I was too weak to walk that 
far, on account of my back being out of whack. 
"Well," said he, "you go with us as far as that big 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 55 

sand hill yonder," pointing to a large red sand hill a 
few hundred yards from where we stood, "and my 
chum here, who has got two good legs, will run 
on and get the money while we wait." 

I agreed, not suspecting anything wrong and 
when behind the sand hill, out of sight of the 
steamboat landing, Mr. one-leg threw down on me 
with my own "shooter" and ordered me to throw 
up my hands. I obeyed and held mighty still while 
the other young ruffian went through my pockets. 
They walked off with everything I had in my 
pockets, even took my valise key. I felt consider- 
ably relieved, I can assure you, when the cocked 
revolver was taken down from within a few inches 
of my nose. I was in dread for fear his trembling 
finger might accidently touch the trigger. 

As soon as I was released I went right back to 
the landing and notified a policeman who struck 
out after them. But whether he caught them or not 
I never knew, as the "Bart Able" steamed down the 
river shortly afterwards. 

The same evening after arriving in New Orleans 
the "Bart Able" pulled back, for Saint Louis, leav- 
ing me there flat broke and among strangers. 



56 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

I looked terribly blue late that evening as I 
walked up and down the crowded levee studying 
what to do. I had already been to the Morgan 
steamship landing and begged for a chance to work 
my way to Texas, but met with poor success. I 
could not hire out even if I had applied and got a 
jub, for my back was still stiff, so much so that I 
couldn't stoop down without terrible pain. 

That night I laid down under an old tarpaulin 
which was spread over a lot of sugar. 

After getting up and shaking the dust off next 
morning, I went down the river about a mile where 
scores of small boats were beinisf unloaded. 

Among them were several boat loads of oranges, 
bananas, etc., which were being unloaded. In car- 
rying the bananas on shore the over ripe ones would 
drop off. On those I made my breakfast, but I 
wished a thousand times before night that I had not 
eaten them, for Oh Lord, how my head did ache ! 

That night I went to sleep on a pile of cotton 
bales — that is I tried to sleep, but my headache was 
terrible, I could get but little repose. 

The next morning I found there was a Morgan 
steamship in from Texas, and I struck out to inter- 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 57 

view the captain in regard to a free ride to Texas. 
But the old pot-bellied sinner wouldn't talk to me. 

In the afternoon I began to grow weak from hun- 
ger and my back ached badly. I sat down on an 
old stove at the foot of Canal street and never moved 
for three long hours. 

t^inally a well dressed old man about fifty years 
of age, with an umbrella over his head, came out 
of Couens' office, a small building a short distance 
from where I sat, and walking up to me said, in a 
gruff voice, "young man what are you sitting out 
here in the sun for, so upright and stiff, as if nailed 
to that old stove?" 

I told him I was compelled to sit upright on 
account of a lame back. In fact I laid my case be- 
fore him in full. He then said in a much more pleas- 
ant voice: "My boy I'm going to make you an offer, 
and you can take it or let it alone — just as you like. 
I will give you four dollars a month to help my wife 
around the house and at the end of four months 
will give you a free pass to Texas. You see I am 
agent for Couens' Red River line of boats and, 
therefore, can get a pass cheap." 

I accepted his offer at once and thanked him 
with all my heart for his kindness. Being on 



58 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

his way home, we boarded a Canal street car. It 
was then almost sundown. 

About a half hour's ride brought us within half 
a block of our destination. 

Walking up a pair of nicely finished steps at No. 
18 Derbigny street, he rang a bell. A negro ser- 
vant whom he called "Ann," answered the call. 
Everything sparkled within, for the house was fur- 
nished in grand style. The old gentleman intro- 
duced me to his wife a^^ a little Texas hoosier that 
had strayed off from home and was about to starve. 

After supper "Miss Mary," as the servants called 
Mrs. Myers and as I afterwards called her bhowed 
me to the bath house and told me to give myself 
an extraordinary good scrubbing. 

I do not know as this improved my looks any, as 
I hadn't any clean clothes to put on, my valise 
having been stolen during my illness coming down 
the river. 

The next day Miss Mary took me to a clothing 
house and fitted me out in fine style. I admired 
all but the narrow brimmed hat and peaked toed 
o-aiters. I wanted a broad brimmed hat and star 
top boots, but she said I would look too much like 
a hoosier with them on. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 59 

That evening I got a black eye. After Mr. Myers 
came home from his work about four o'clock, we all 
went out on the front steps to breathe the fresh air. 
There being a crowd of boys playing at the corner 
I asked Mr. and Mrs. Myers if I could go over and 
watch them awhile. Both consented, but told me 
not to stay long as they didn't want me to get into 
the habit of mixing with the street loafers. 

On arriving there all eyes were turned towards 
me. One fellow yelled out, "Hello dandy, when 
did you arrive!" and another one remarked, "He is 
a stiff cuss — aint he?" 

I concluded there was nothingf to be seen and 
turned back; just as I turned around a yellow negro 
boy slipped up behind me and pulled my hair. 
The white boys had put him up to it, no doubt. 

I jumped aboard of him quicker than a flash and 
forgot all about my sore back. It was nip and tuck 
for awhile — we both being about the same size, but 
I finally got him down and blooded his nose in 
good shape. As I went to get up he kicked me 
over one eye with his heavy boot. Hence the black 
eye, which was swollen up in a few minutes to an 
enormous size. 



6o A TEXAS COW BOY. 

I expected to get a scolding from Mr. and Mrs. 
Myers, but they both gloried in my spunk for taking 
my own part. They had witnessed the whole thing. 

Somehow or another that fight took the kink out 
of my back for from that time on it began to get 
well. I am bothered with it though, to this day, 
when I take cold or do a hard day's work. 



^^^^ 



Chapter VI. 
ADOPTED AND SENT TO SCHOOL. 

Mr. and Mrs. Myers had no children and after I 
had been with them about a month, they pro- 
posed to adopt me, or at least they made me 
promise to stay with them until I was twenty-one 
years of age. 

They were to send me to school until I was seven- 
teen and then start me in business. They also 
promised to give me everything they had at their 
death. 

So they prepared me for school right away. As 
I was not very far advanced in book learning, having 
forgotten nearly all that Mr. Hale taught me, they 
thought I had better go to Fisk's public school until 
I eot a start. 

I had not been going to this school long when I 
had trouble with the lady teacher, Miss Finnely. 
It happened thus: A boy sitting behind me, struck 
me on the neck with a slate pencil, and when I 



62 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

turned around and accused him of it he whispered, 
"you He." I gave him a Hck on the nose that made 
him bawl hke a calf. 

Of course the teacher heard it and called us up 
to take our medicine. 

She made the other boy hold out his hand first 
and after giving him five raps told him to take his 
seat. 

It was then my time, and I stuck out my hand 
like a little man. She gave me five licks and was 
raising the rule to strike again when I jerked my 
hand away, at the same time telling her that it 
wasn't fair to punish me the most when the other 
boy caused the fuss. She insisted on giving me a 
little more so finally I held out my hand and re- 
ceived five more licks and still she was not satisfied; 
but I was and w^ent to my seat. She told me two 
or three times to come back but I would not do it, 
so she sent a boy upstairs after Mr. Dyer, the gen- 
tleman who taught the large boys. 

I had seen Mr. Dyer try his hand on boys, at 

several different times, therefore didn't intend to let 

him get hold of me if I could help it. She saw me 

.looking towards the door, so she came over and 

stood between me and it. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 6 



3 



I heard Mr. Dyer coming down the stairs; that 
was enough; I flew for the door. I remember 
running against something soft and knocking it 
over and suppose it must have been Miss Finnely. 
When I got to the street I pulled straight for home. 

About a week afterwards Mr. Myers sent me to 
pay school, w^here I was taught German, French and 
English. My teacher was an old gentleman who 
only took a few select scholars. 

Everything went on fine until the following spring, 
in May or June, when I got into a fuss with one of 
the scholars and skipped the country. 

The way it happened: One day when school let 
out for dinner we all, after emptying our dinner bas- 
kets, struck out for the "green" to play "foot and a 
half." 

There was one boy in the crowd by the name of 
Stemcamp who was always trying to pick a fuss 
with me. He was twice as large as I was, there- 
fore I tried to avoid hiri, but this time he called me 
a liar and I made for him. 

During the scuffle which followed, I got out my 
little pearl handled knife, one "Miss Mary" had given 
me just a few days before and was determined to 
use it the first opportunity. 



64 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

I was down on all fours and he astride of my 
back putting it to me in the face, underhanded. 
The only place I could get at with the knife was 
his legs, so I stuck it in up to the handle, on the in- 
side of one leg, just below the groin and ripped 
down. 

He jumped ten feet in the air and roared out 
"Holy Moses!" 

As soon as I regained my feet he took to his 
heels, but I soon overtook him and eot another dicr 
at his back. I thought sure I had done him up for 
good this time but found out afterwards that I had 
done no harm, with the exception of ripping his 
clothes down the back. 

The next day at that time I wac on my way to 
Saint Louis. I had stowed myself away on board 
of the "Mollie Able" among the cotton bales. 

The second night out we had a blow up. One of 
the cylinder-heads blew out of the engine. It 
nearly killed the engineer and fireman, also several 
other persons. 

A little negro boy — who was stealing his passage — 
and I were sleeping on a pile of lumber close to the 
engine when she went off We both got pretty 
badly scalded. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 65 

The steamer ran ashore and laid there until morn- 
ing and then went the balance of the way on one 
wheel. It took us just eight days from that time to 
get to Saint Louis. 

I remained in Saint Louis one day without food — 
not caring to visit the "Planters" or any of my ac- 
quaintances — and then walked to Lebanon, 111., 
twenty-five miles. I thought may be I might find 
out through some of my Lebanon friends where 
mother and sister were. 

It was nearly noon when I struck out on my jour- 
ney and nine o'clock at night when I arrived at my 
destination. I went straight to Mrs. Bell's, where 
sister had worked, but failed to hear a word of 
mother and sister's whereabouts. 

Mrs. Bell gave me a good bed that night and 
next morning I struck out to hunt a job. 

After considerable tramping around I found work 
with one of my old employers, a Mr. Jacobs, who 
lived twelve miles from town. 

I only worked a short while when I began to wish 
I was back under "Miss Mary's" wing. So one 
morning I quit and pulled for Saint Louis. 

I had money enough to pay my fare to Saint 
Louis and I arrived there just as the "Robert E, 



66 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Lee" and "Natchez" were fixing to pull out on their 
big race for New Orleans. 

The "Robert E. Lee" being my favorite boat, I 
jumped aboard just as she was shoving off. Of 
course I had to keep hidden most of the time, es- 
pecially when the captain or purser were around. 
I used to get my chuck from the cook who thought 
I was a bully boy. 

The "Natchez" would have beaten, no doubt, but 
she got too smart by trying to make a cut-off through 
an old canal opposite Memphis and got stuck in 
the mud. 

The first thing after landing in New Orleans, I 
hunted up one of my boy friends and found out by 
him how my victim was getting on. He informed 
me that he was up and hobbling about on crutches. 
He also stated that the poor fellow came very near 
losing his leg. I concluded if they did have me 
arrested that Mr. Myers was able to help me out, so 
I braced up and struck out for home. 

Mr. and Mrs. Myers were terribly tickled over 
my return. They had an awful time though getting 
me scrubbed up again, as I was very black and dirty. 

A few days after my return Mr. Myers went to 
see my same old teacher to find out whether he 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 67 

would take me back or not. At first he said that 
no money could induce him to be bothered with me 
again, but finally Mr. Myers talked him into the no- 
tion of trying me once more. 

So the next morning I shouldered my books and 
struck out for school to take up my same old studies, 
German, French and English. 



•^S^ 



Chapter VII. 

BACK AT LAST TO THE LONE STAR 
STATE. 

Everything- went on lovely until the coming fall, 
about the latter part of November when I skip- 
ped the country for good. I will tell you how it 
happened. 

One afternoon a fire broke out close to the school 
house and as everybody was rushing by, I became 
excited and wanted to gfo too, to see the fun. I 
asked the teacher if I could go, but he refused in a 
gruff voice. This did not keep me, I made a break 
for the door and was soon lost among the surging 
mass of people. 

The next heard of me was on the "rolling deep." 
I had boarded a Morgan steamship and stowed 
myself away until the vessel was at sea, where I 
knew they wouldn't land to put me ashore. 

"St. Mary" was the name of the ship. She lost 
one of her wheel houses and was considerably out 
of shape when we landed in Galveston, Texas. It 
had stormed terribly during the whole trip. 



A TEXAS COW BOY. 69 

During the few hours that the ship remained in 
Galveston, I put in my time hunting an old uncle 
of mine by the name of "Nick" White, whom I 
had never seen. He had been living there seven- 
teen years, therefore I experienced but little diffi- 
culty in finding his place; but after finding it I 
didn't have courage enough to go in and make my- 
self known. One reason was, I thoueht he mieht 
think I was beholden to him, or in other words, 
trying to get his sympathy. I just stood at the gate 
a few minutes viewing the beautiful shrubbery, 
which filled the spacious yard and went back to the 
boat which by that time, was just fixing to pull out. 

We arrived in Indianola one morning about sun- 
up. I recognized several of my old acquaintances 
standing on the wharf before the ship landed; 
among them was my old God-father Mr. Hagerty, 
who stood for me when I was being christened by 
the Catholic priest. 

They were all surprised to see me back. Mr, 
Hagerty took me home with him and told me to 
content myself until I could find work. 

In about a week I went to work for Mr. H. 
Selickson, who ran a packing house five miles below 
town. He gave me fifteen dollars a month all winter. 



yo A TEXAS COW BOY, 

The first month's wages went for a fancy pistol, 
the next, or at least part of it, for a pair of star topped 
boots and all the balance on "monte," a mexican 
game. There were lots of mexicans working there 
and after working hours some of them would "deal" 
monte while the rest of us "bucked." 

About the first of February I quit the packing 
house and went to Matagorda where I was wel- 
comed by all my old aquaintances. From there I 
took a trip over to the "Settlement," on the Penin- 
sula, to see the old homestead. Everything looked 
natural ; the cedar and fig trees were covered with 
little red winged black birds, seemingly the same 
ones that were there when I left, nearly three years 
before. 

After a week's stay in the Settlement, I went back 
to Matagorda and went to work for Mr. Joseph 
Yeamans, a Baptist preacher. My work was farm- 
ing and my wages part of the crop. 

Mr. Yeamans' farm was a thirty acre sand patch 
on the Peninsula, about forty miles above the Set- 
tlement. Our aim was to raise a big crop of water 
melons and sweet potatoes, but when I left every- 
thing pointed to a big crop of grass burrs and a very 
slim lay out of garden "truck" 



BY CHAS. A, SIRINGO. 7 1 

The old gentleman and I lived all alone in a little 

dilapidated shanty with a dirt floor. Our chuck 

consisted of black cofl'ee, hard-tack and coon or 

possum meat. We had three good coon dogs, 

therefore had plenty of fresh meat such as it was. 

There being plenty "Mavricks" close at hand, 
and being tired of coon meat, I used to try and get 
the old man to let me butcher one now and then for 
a change, but he thought it wicked to kill cattle not 
our own. 

As some of you may not know what a "Mavrick" 
is, I will try and explain. 

In early days, a man by the name of Mavrick 
setded on the Lavaca river and started a cow ranch. 
He being a chicken-hearted old rooster, wouldn't 
brand nor ear-mark any of his catde. All his neigh- 
bors branded theirs, therefore Mr. Mavrick claimed 
everything that wore long ears. 

When the war broke out Mr. Mavrick had to bid 
adieu to wife and babies and go far away to fio-ht 
for his country's good. 

When the cruel war was ended, he went home 
and found his catde roaming over a thousand hills. 
Everywhere he went he could see thousands upon 
thousands of his lono-eared catde. 



72 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

But when his neighbors and all the men in the 
surrounding country came home and went to brand- 
ing their five years increase, Mr. Mavrick did not 
feel so rich. He made a terrible fuss about it, but 
it did no good, as in a very few years his cattle 
wore some enterprising man's brand and he was 
left out in the cold. 

Hence the term "Mavrick." At first people used 
to say: "Yonder goes one of Mr. Mavrick's ani- 
mals!" Now they say: "Yonder goes a Mavrick!" 

About the time we got our crops, sweet potatoes, 
melons, etc., in the ground, I swore off farming 
and skipped out for town, leaving Mr. Yeamans my 
share of the "crop" free gratis. 

After arriving in Matagorda I hired out to a Mr. 
Tom Nie, who was over there, from Rancho Grande, 
hiring some Cow Boys. 

"Rancho Grande"was owned by"Shanghai" Pierce 
and Allen and at that time was considered one of 
the largest ranches in the whole state of Texas. 
To give you an idea of its size, will state, that the 
next year after I went to work we branded twenty- 
five thousand calves — that is, just in one season. 

Altogether there were five of us started to Rancho 
Grande to work — all boys about my own age; we 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 73 

went in a sail boat to Palacious Point, where the 
firm had an outside ranch and where they were 
feeding a large lot of cow ponies for spring work. 

It was about the middle of April, 1871, that we 
all, about twenty of us, pulled out for the head- 
quarter ranch at the head of Tresspalacious creek. 
It took us several days to make the trip as we had 
to brand calves and Mavricks on the way up. 

A few days after arriving at the ranch Mr. or 
"Old Shang" Pierce as he was commonly called, 
arrived from Old Mexico with about three hundred 
head of wild Spanish ponies, therefore we kids had 
a high old time learning the art of riding a "pitch- 
ing" horse. 

We put in several days at the ranch making prep- 
arations to start out on a two months trip. Being 
a store there we rigged up in good shape; I spent 
two or three months' wages for an outfit, spurs, etc., 
trying to make myself look like a thoroughbred 
Cow Boy from Bitter creek. 

There were three crowds of us started at the same 
time; one to work up the Colorado river, the other 
around home and the third which was ours, to work 
west in Jackson and Lavaca counties. 



74 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

Our crowd consisted of fifteen men, one hundred 
head of ponies — mostly wild ones — and a chuck 
wagon loaded down with coffee, flour, molasses 
and salt. Tom Nie was our boss. 




Chapter VIII. 
LEARNING TO ROPE WILD STEERS. 

Arriving on the Navadad river, we went to work 
.gathering a herd of "trail" beeves and also 
branding Mavricks at the same time. Some days 
we would brand as high as three or four hundred 
head — none under two years old. 

After about a month's hard work we had the herd 

of eleven hundred ready to turn over to Mr. Black 

■ who had bought them, delivered to him at the 

Snodgrass ranch. They were all old mossy horn 

fellows, from seven to twenty-seven years old. 

Mr. Black was a Kansas "short horn" and he had 
brought his outfit of "short horn" men and horses, 
to drive the herd "up the trail." 

Some of the men had never seen a Texas steer, 
consequently they crossed Red river into the Indi-an 
territory with nothing left but the "grub" wagon 
and horses. They had lost every steer and Mr. 
Black landed in Kansas flat broke. 



*j(i A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Lots of the steers came back to their old ranores 
and Mr. "Shanghai" had the fun of selling them 
over again, to some other greeny, may-be. 

"Shanghai" Pierce went to Kansas the next year 
and when he returned he told of having met Mr. 
Black up there, working at his old trade — black- 
smithing. He said Mr. Black cursed Texas shame- 
fully and swore that he never would, even if he should 
live to be as old as Isaac, son of Jacob, dabble in 
long horns again. 

After getting rid of Mr. Black's herd we turned 
our whole attention to branding Mavricks. 

About the first of Augfust we went back to the 
ranch and found that it had changed hands in our 
absence. "Shanghai" Pierce and his brother Jona- 
than had sold out their interests to Allen, Pool & Co. 
for the snug little sum of one hundred and ten 
thousand dollars. 

That shows what could be done in those days, 
with no capital, but lots of cheek and a branding 
iron. The two Pierce's had come out there from 
Yankeedom a few years before poorer than skim- 
med milk. 

Everything had taken a change — even to the 
ranch. It had been moved down the river four 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 'J'J 

miles to Mr. John Moore's place. Mr. Moore had 
been appointed "big chief," hence the ranch being 
moved to his place. 

About the middle of August we pulled out again 
with a fresh supply of horses, six to the man and a 
bran new boss, Mr. Wiley Kuykendall. 

Some of the boys hated to part with Mr. Nie, 
but I was glad of the change, for he wouldn't allow 
me to rope large steers nor fight when I got on the 
war-path. I remember one time he gave me fits for 
laying a negro out with a four-year old club; and 
another time he laid me out with his open hand for 
trying to carve one of the boys up with a butcher 
knife. 

We commenced work about the first of September 
on "Big Sandy" in Lavaca county, a place noted for 
wild "brush" cattle. Very few people lived in that 
section, hence so many wild unbranded cattle. 

To illustrate the class of people who lived on Big 
Sandy, will relate a little picnic a negro and I had 
a few days after our arrival there. 

While herding a bunch of cattle, gathered the 
day before, on a small prairie, we noticed a 
footman emerge from the thick timber on the op- 
posite side from where we were and make straight 



78 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

for a spotted pony that was "hobbled" and grazing 
out in the open space. 

He was indeed a rough looking customer, being 
half naked. He had nothing on his head but a 
thick mat of almost gray hair; and his feet and legs 
were bare. 

We concluded to "rope" him and take him to 
camp, so taking down our ropes and putting spurs 
to our tired horses we struck out. 

He saw us coming and only being about a hun- 
dred yards from the spotted pony, he ran to him and 
cutting the "hobbles," which held his two front legs 
together, jumped aboard of him and was off in the 
direction he had just come, like a flash. The pony 
must have been well trained for he had nothing to 
guide him with. 

A four hundred yard race for dear life brought 
him to the "brush" — that is timber, thickly covered 
with an underbrush of live-oak "runners." He shot 
out of sight like an arrow. He was not a minute 
too soon, for we were right at his heels. 

We gave up the chase after losing sight of him, 
for we couldn't handle our ropes in the "brush." 

The next day the camp was located close to the 
spot where he disappeared at, and several of us 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 79 

followed up his trail. We found him and his three 
grown daughters, his wife having died a short while 
before, occupying a little one room log shanty in a 
lonely spot about two miles from the little prairie in 
which we first saw him. The whole outfit were 
tough looking citizens. The girls had never seen 
a town, so they said. They had about two acres 
in cultivation and from that they made their 
living. Their nearest neighbor was a Mr. Penny, 
who lived ten miles west and the nearest town 
was Columbus, on the Colorado river, fifty miles east. 

As the cattle remained hidden out in the "brush" 
during the day-time, only venturing out on the small 
prairies at night, we had to do most of our work 
early in the morning, commencing an hour or two 
before daylight. As you might wish to know ex- 
actly how we did, will try and explain: — About 
two hours before daylight the cook would holloa 
"chuck," and then Mr. Wiley would go around and 

yell "breakfast, boys; d n you get up!" two or 

three times in our ears. 

Breakfast being over we would saddle up our 
ponies, which had been staked out the night before, 
and strike out for a certain prairie may be three or 
four miles off — that is all but two or three men, just 



8o A TEXAS COW BOY, 

enough to bring the herd, previously gathered, on 
as soon as it became lieht enough to see. 

Arriving at the edge of the prairie we would dis- 
mount and wait for daylight. 

At the first peep of day the cattle, which would 
be out in the prairie, quite a distance from the 
timber, would all turn their heads and commence 
grazing at a lively rate towards the nearest point of 
timber. Then we would ride around throuQ^h the 
brush, so as not to be seen, until we got to the 
point of timber that they were steering for. 

When it became lio-ht enougfh to see pfood, we 
would ride out, rope in hand, to meet them and apt 
as not one of the old-timers, may be a fifteen or 
twenty-year old steer, which were continuously on 
the lookout, would spy us before we got twenty 
yards from the timber. Then the fun would begin — 
the whole bunch, may be a thousand head, would 
stampede and come right towards us. They never 
were known to run in the opposite direction from 
the nearest point of timber. But with cattle raised 
on the prairies, it's the reverse, they will always 
leave the timber. 

After coming in contact, every man would rope 
and tie down one of the finest animals in the bunch. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 51 

Once in awhile some fellow would get more beef 
than he could manage; under those circumstances he 
would have to worry along until some other fellow 
got through with his job and came to his rescue. 

If there w^as another prairie close by we would go 
to it and tie down a few more, but we would have 
to get there before sunup or they would all be in 
the brush. It was their habit to graze out into the 
little prairies at night-fall and go back to the brush 
by sunrise next morning. 

Finally the herd which we had gathered before 
and which was already "broke in," would arrive 
from camp, where we had been night-herding 
them and then we would drive it around to each 
one of the tied-down animals, letting him up so 
he couldn't help from running right into the herd, 
where he would generally stay contented. Once in 
awhile though, we would strike an old steer that 
couldn't be made to stay in the herd. Just as soon 
as he was untied and let up he would go right 
through the herd and strike for the brush, fighting 
his way. Under those circumstances we would have 
to sew up their eyes with a needle and thread. That 
would bring them to their milk, as they couldn't see 
the timber. 



82 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

I got into several scrapes on this trip, by being a 
new hand at the business. One time I was going at 
full speed and threw my rope onto a steer just as he 
got to the edge of the timber; I couldn't stop my 
horse in time, therefore the steer went on one side 
of a tree and my horse on the other and the conse- 
quence was, my rope being tied hard and fast to the 
saddle-horn, we all landed up against the tree in a 
heap. 

At another time, on the same day, I roped 
a large animal and got my horse jerked over back- 
wards on top of me and in the horse getting up he 
got me all wound up in the rope, so that I couldn't 
free myself until relieved by "Jack" a negro man 
who was near at hand. I was certainly in a ticklish 
predicament that time; the pony was wild and there 
I hung fast to his side with my head down while 
the steer, which was still fastened to the rope, was 
making every effort to gore us. 

Just before Christmas Moore selected our outfit 
to do the shipping at Palacious Point, where a 
Morgan steamship landed twice a week to take 
on cattle for the New Orleans market. 

We used to ship about five hundred head at each 
shipping. After getting rid of one bunch we would 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 83 

strike right back, to meet one of the gathering 
outfits, after another herd. There were three dif- 
ferent outfits to do the gathering for us. 

We kept that up all winter and had a tough time 
of it, too, as it happened to be an unusually cold and 
wet winter. 

Towards spring the cattle began to get terribly 
poor, so that during the cold nights while night- 
herding them a great many would get down in the 
mud and freeze to death. Have seen as high as 
fifty head of dead ones scattered over the ground 
where the herd had drifted during the night. It's a 
pity if such nights as those didn't try our nerves. 

Sometimes it would be twelve o'clock at night 
before we would o-et the cattle loaded aboard of the 
ship. But when we did get through we would surely 
have a picnic — filling up on Mr. Geo. Burkheart's 
red eye. Mr. Burkheart kept a store at the "Point" 
well filled with Cow Boys delight — in fact he made 
a specialty of the stuff. 

Our camping ground was three miles from the 
Point, and some mornings the cook would get up 
and find several saddled horses standing around 
camp waiting for their corn — their riders having 
fallen by the wayside. 



Chapter IX. 
OWNING MY FIRST CATTLE. 

When spring- opened, our outfit, under the lead- 
ership of Mr. Robert Partin, Mr. Wiley having- 
quit, struck out up the Colorado river in Whorton 
and Colorado counties to brand Mavricks. 

About the last of July we went to the "home" 
ranch, where Mr. Wiley was put in charge of us 
again. We were sent right out on another trip, 
west, to Jackson county. 

It was on this trip that I owned my first cattle. 
Mr. Wiley concluded it would look more business 
like if he would brand a few Mavricks for himself in- 
stead of branding them all for Allen, Pool & Co., 
so he began putting his own brand on all the 
finest looking ones. To keep us boys from giving 
him away, he gave us a nest egg apiece — that is a 
few head to draw to. My nest eggs were a couple of 
two-year olds, and my brand was A. T. connec'ted — 
the T. on top of the A. Of course after that I 
always carried a piece of iron tied to my saddle so 



A TEXAS COW BOY. 85 

in case I got off on the prairie by myself I could 
brand a few Mavricks for myself, without Mr. Wiley 
being any the wiser of it. The way I would go about 
it would be to rope and tie down one of the long- 
eared fellows and after heating the straight piece of 
round, iron bolt, in the brush or "cow-chip" fire, 
"run" my brand on his hip or ribs. He was then my 
property. 

Everything ran along as smooth as if on greased 
wheels for about two months, when somehow or 
another, Mr. Moore, our big chief, heard of our 
little private racket and sent for us to come home. 

Mr. Wiley got the "G. B." at once and a Mr. 
Logan was put in his place. Now this man Logan 
was a very good man but he was out of his latitude, 
he should have been a second mate on a Mississippi 
steamboat. 

I worked with Logan one trip, until we got back to 
the ranch and then I settled up for the first time 
since going to work, nearly two years before. 

An old irishman by the name of "Hunky-dorey'' 
Brown kept the store and did the settling up with 
the men. When he settled with me he laid all 
the money, in silver dollars, that I had earned since 
commencing work, Vv^hich amounted to a few hun- 



86 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

dred dollars, out on die counter and then after 
eyeing me awhile, said: "Allen, Pool & Co. owe 
you three hundred dollars," or whatever the amount 
was, "and you owe Allen, Pool & Co. two hundred 
ninety-nine dollars and a quarter, which leaves you 
seventy-five cents." He then raked all but six bits 
into the money drawer. 

To say that I felt mortified wouldn't near express 
my feelings. I thought the whole pile was mine 
and therefore had been figuring on the many pur- 
chases that I intended making. My intentions were 
to buy a herd of ponies and go to speculating. I 
had a dozen or two ponies, that I knew were for 
sale, already picked out in my mind. But my fond 
expectations were soon trampled under foot. You 
see I had never kept an account, consequently never 
knew how I stood with the company. 

After pocketing my six bits, I mounted "Fannie'' 
a little mare that I had bought not long before and 
struck out for W. B. Grimes' ranch, a few miles up 
the river. I succeeded in getting a job from the old 
gentleman at fifteen dollars per month. 

Mr. Grimes had a slaughter house on his ranch 
where he killed cattle for their hides and tallow — the 
meat he threw to the hogs. About two hundred 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. ^y 

head per day was an average killing. Did you ask 
kind reader, if those were all his own cattle that he 
butchered? If so, will have to say that I never 
tell tales out of school. 

After working around the ranch a short while Mr. 
Grimes gave me the job of taking care of his "stock 
horses," that is mares, colts and horses that wern't 
in use. There were about two hundred head of 
those and they were scattered in two hundred and 
fifty different places — over fifty square miles of 
territory and of course before I could take care of 
them I had to go to work and gather them up into 
one bunch. 

A little circumstance happened shortly after going 
to work at the "W. B. G." ranch which I am o-oine 
to relate. 

An old gentleman by the name of Kinchlow, who 
owned a large horse ranch up on the Colorado river 
in Whorton county, came down and told Mr. Grimes 
that his outfit was fixing to start on a horse "hunt" 
and for him to send a man alone, as there were 
quite a number of "W. B. G." horses in that country. 

As I had the job taking care of the horses, it fell 
to my lot to accompany the old gentleman, Mr. 
Kinchlow, to his ranch fifty miles distant. 



S8 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

It was bright and early one morning when we 
pulled out, aiming to ride the fifty miles by ten 
o'clock that nieht. Mr. Kinchlow was mounted on 
"old Beauregard," a large chestnut sorrel, while I 
rode a fiery little bay. 

Our journey was over a bald, wet prairie; night 
overtook us at the head of Blue creek, still twenty 
miles from our destination. 

A few minutes after crossing Blue creek, just 
about dusk, w^e ran across a large panther, which 
jumped up out of the tall grass in front of us. It 
was a savage looking beast and appeared to be on 
the war-path. After jumping to one side it just sat 
still, growling and showing its ugly teeth. I started 
to shoot it but Mr. Kinchlow begged me not to as 
it would frighten his horse, who was then almost 
beyond control, from seeing the panther. 

We rode on and a few minutes afterwards dis- 
covered the panther sneaking along after us through 
the tall erass. I be^eed Mr. Kinchlow to let me 
kill it, but he wouldn't agree, as, he said, a pistol 
shot would cause old Beauregard to jump out of 
his hide. 

It finally became very dark; our guide was a 
certain bright litde star. We had forgotten all 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 89 

about the panther as it had been over half an hour 
since we had seen it. The old man was relating an 

o 

Indian tale, which made my hair almost stand on 
end, as I imagined that I was right in the midst of 
a wild band of reds, when all at once old Beaure- 
gard gave a tremendous loud snort and dashed 
straight ahead at a break-neck speed. Mr. Kinchlow 
yelled "whoa," every jump; finally his voice died 
out and I could hear nothing but the sound of his 
horse's hoofs, and finally the sound of them too, 
died out. 

Of course I socked spurs to my pony and tried 
to keep up, for I imagined there were a thousand 
and one indians and panthers right at my heels. 

After running about a quarter of a mile I heard 
something like a faint, human groan, off to my right 
about fifty yards. I stopped and listened, but could 
not hear anything more, except now and then the 
lonely howl of a coyote off in the distance. I 
finally began to feel lonesome, so I put spurs to my 
pony again. But I hadn't gone only a few jumps 
when I checked up and argued with myself thusly: — 
Now suppose that groan came from the lips of Mr. 
Kinchlow, who may- be fell from his horse and is 
badly hurt; then wouldn't it be a shame to run off 



90 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

and leave him there to die when may be a Httle aid 
from me would save him? 

I finally spunked up and drawing my pistol start- 
ed in the direction from whence came the groan. 
My idea in drawing the pistol was, for fear the 
panther, who I felt satisfied had been the cause of 
the whole trouble, might tackle me. Suffice it to 
say that I found the old gentleman stretched out on 
the ground apparently lifeless and that a half hour's 
nursing brought him to. He finally after several 
trials, got so he could stand up, with my aid. I 
then helped him into my saddle, while I rode be- 
hind and held him on and we continued our journey 
both on one horse. He informed me after he came 
to his riofht senses, that old Beaureo^ard had fallen 

o o 

and rolled over him. 

We landed at our destination about ten o'clock 
next morning; but the good old man only lived 
about two weeks afterwards. He died from the 
effects of the fall, so I heard. 

About Christmas I quit Mr, Grimes and went to 
work on my own hook, skinning "dead" cattle and 
adding to the nest egg Mr. Wiley gave me. I put 
my own brand on quite a number of Mavricks while 
taking care of Mr. Grimes' horses, which began to 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. QI 

make me feel like a young cattle king. The only- 
trouble was they were scattered over too much wild 
territory and mixed up with so many other cattle. 
When a fellow branded a Mavrick in those days it 
was a question whether he would ever see or realize 
a nickel for it. For just think, one, or even a 
hundred head mixed up with over a million of cattle, 
and those million head scattered over a territory 
one hundred miles square and continually drifting 
around from one place to another. 

After leaving Daddy Grimes I made my home 
at Mr. Horace Yeamans', an old mexican war vet- 
eran, who lived five miles from Grimes'. His 
family consisted of two daughters and two sons, all 
grown but the youngest daughter, Sally, who was 
only fourteen, and who I was casting sheeps eyes 
at. The old gentleman had brought his children up 
very pious, which was a glorious thing for me as, 
during the two years that I made my home there,' 
I got broke of swearing — a dirty, mean habit which 
had fastened itself upon me, and which I thought was 
impossible to get rid of I had become so that it 
was almost an impossibility for me to utter a sen- 
tence without using an oath to introduce it and 
another to end it. To show how the habit was 



92 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

fastened upon me: Mr. Parten, one of my former 
bosses, made me an offer of three dollars more 
wages, on the month, if I would quit cursing but I 
wouldn't do it. 

Horace Yeamans, who was about my own age 
and I went into partnership in the skinning business. 
Cattle died by the thousands that winter, on account 
of the country being overstocked, therefore Horace 
and I had a regular picnic skinning, and branding 
Mavricks — only those that looked as if they might 
pull through the winter. 

To give you an idea how badly cattle died that 
winter will state that, at times, rio-ht after a sleet, 
a man could walk on dead animals for miles without 
stepping on the ground. This, of course, would be 
along the Bay shore, where they would pile up on 
top of one another, not being able to go further, on 
account of the water. ' 

About five miles east of Mr. Yeamans' was a 
slough or creek called "Turtle bayou" which lay east 
and west a distance of several miles, and which I 
have seen bridged over with dead cattle, from one 
end to the other. You see the solid mass of half 
starved animals, in drifting ahead of a severe 
"Norther," v»^ould undertake to cross the bayou, 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 93 

which was very boggy and consequently the weakest 
ones would form a bridoe for the others to cross on. 

My share of the first hides we shipped to In- 
dianola amounted to one hundred and fourteen 
dollars. You bet I felt rich. I never had so much 
money in all my life. I went at once and bought 
me a twenty-seven dollar saddle and sent mother 
twenty-five dollars. I had found out mother's ad- 
dress, in Saint Louis, by one of my old Peninsula 
friends getting a letter from sister. 

Our next sale amounted to more than the first. 
That time Horace and I went to Indianola with the 
hides for we wanted to blow in some of our surplus 
wealth ; we were getting too rich. 

When spring opened I bought five head of horses 
and thought I would try my hand at trading horses. 
The first trade I made, I cleared twenty-five dollars. 
I gave an old mare which cost me twenty dollars, 
for a pony which I sold a few days afterwards for 
forty-five. 

Along in May I fell head over heels in love, for 
the first time in my life. A pretty little fourteen 
year old Miss, cousin to Horace and the girls, came 
over on a month's visit and when she left I was com- 
pletely rattled — couldn't think of anything but her; 



94 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

her beautiful image was continually before my eyes. 

Her father, who was Sheriff of Matagorda county 
lived on the road to Matagorda, fifteen miles from 
Mr. Yeamans', therefore, during the coming sum- 
mer I went to town pretty often; to get a new brand 
recorded was generally my excuse. You see, as 
she lived about half way between the Yeamans' 
ranch and town, I could be near her two nights 
each trip, one going and one returning. 

I had very poor success that summer in my new 
enterprise, horse trading. I was too badly "locoed" 
to tell a good horse from a bad one; in fact I wasn't 
fit for anything, unless it would have been a Mail 
carrier between "Denningr's Bridge" and Matag^orda. 



Chapter X. 
A START UP THE CHISHOLM TRAIL. 

I put in the following winter branding Mavricks, 
skinning cattle and making regular trips to Mat- 
agorda; I still remained in partnership with Horace 
Yeamans in the skinning business. I made consid- 
erable money that winter as I sold a greater num- 
ber of Mavricks than ever before. But the money 
did me no good as I spent it freely. 

That coming spring, it being 1874, I hired to 
Leander Ward of Jackson county to help gather a 
herd of steers for the Muckleroy Bros., who were 
eoino- to drive them to Kansas. I had also made a 
contract with Muckleroy's boss, Tom Merril, to go 
up the trail with him, therefore I bid my friends 
good-bye, not expecting to see them again until the 
coming fall. My wages were thirty-five dollars per 
month and all expenses, including railroad fare back 
home. 

After a month's hard work we had the eleven hund- 
red head of wild and woolly steers ready to turn over 



96 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

to the Muckleroy outfit at Thirteen mile point on 
the Mustang, where they were camped, ready to 
receive them. Their outfit consisted mostly of 
Kansas "short horns" which they had brought back 
with them the year before. 

It was a cold, rainy evening when the cattle were 
counted and turned over to Tom Merril. Henry 
Coats, Geo. GifTord and myself were the only boys 
who were turned over with the herd — that is kept 
right on. We were almost worn out standing night 
guard half of every night for the past month and 
then starting in with a fresh outfit made it appear 
tough to us. 

That night it began to storm terribly. The herd 
began to drift early and by midnight we were five 
or six miles from camp. The steers showed a dis- 
position to stampede but we handled them easy and 
sang melodious songs which kept them quieted. 
But about one o'clock they stampeded in grand 
shape. One of the "short horns," a long legged 
fellow by the name of Saint Clair got lost from the 
herd and finally when he heard the singing came 
dashing through the herd at full speed yelling "let 
'em slide, we'll stay with'em!" at every jump. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 97 

They did slide sure enough, but he failed to "stay 
with 'em." For towards morning one of the boys 
came across him lying in the grass sound asleep. 
When he came dashing through the herd a stampede 
followed; the herd split up into a dozen different 
bunches — each bunch going in a different direction. 
I found myself all alone with about three hundred 
of the frightened steers. Of course all I could do 
was to keep in front or in the lead and try to check 
them up. I finally about three o'clock got them 
stopped and after singing a few "lullaby" songs they 
all lay down and went to snoring. 

After the last steer dropped down I concluded I 
would take a little nap too, so locking both legs 
around the saddle-horn and lying over on the tired 
pony's rump, with my left arm for a pillow, while 
the other still held the bridle-reins, I fell asleep. I 
hadn't slept long though when, from some unac- 
countable reason, every steer jumped to his feet at 
the same instant and was off like a flash. My pony 
which was sound asleep too, I suppose, became 
frightened and dashed off at full speed in the op- 
posite direction. Of course I was also frightened 
and hung to the saddle with a death grip. I was 
unable to raise myself up as the pony was going so 



98 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

fast, therefore had to remain as I was, until after 
about a mile's run I got him checked up. 

Just as soon as I got over my scare I struck out 
in a gallop in the direction I thought the cattle had 
gone, but failed to overtake them. I landed in 
camp almost peetered out about nine o'clock next 
morning. The rest of the boys were all there, just 
eating their breakfast. Tom Merril and Henry 
Coats had managed to hold about half of the herd, 
while the balance were scattered and mixed up with 
"range" cattle for twenty miles around. 

After eating our breakfast and mounting fresh 
horses we struck out to gather up the lost steers. 
We could tell them from the range cattle by the 
fresh "road" brand — a brand that had been put 
on a few days before — therefore, by four o'clock 
that evening we had all but about one hundred head 
back to camp and those Leander Ward bought 
back at half price — that is he just bought the road 
brand or all cattle that happened to be left behind. 

On arriving at camp, we all caught fresh horses 
before stopping to eat dinner or supper, whichever 
you like to call it, it being then nearly night. The 
pony I caught was a wild one and after riding up 
to camp and dismounting to eat dinner, he jerked 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. ^99 

loose from me and went a flying with my star- 
spangled saddle. 

I mounted a pony belonging to one of the other 
boys atid went in hot pursuit. I got near enough 
once to throw my rope over his rump and that was 
all. After a run of fifteen miles I gave it up as a 
bad job and left him still headed for the Rio Grande. 

I got back to camp just at dark and caught a 
fresh horse before stopping to eat my supper. It 
was still raining and had kept it up all day long. 
Mr. "Jim" Muckleroy had an extra saddle along 
therefore I borrowed it until I could get a chance 
to buy me another one. 

After eating a cold supper, the rain having put 
the fire out, I mounted and went on "guard," the 
first part of the night, until one o'clock, being 
my regular time to stay with the herd, while the 
last "guard" remained in camp and slept. 

About ten o'clock it began to thunder and light- 
ning, which caused the herd to become unruly. 
Every time a keen clash of thunder would come the 
herd would stampede and run for a mile or two be- 
fore we could get them to stop. It continued in that 
way all night so that we lost another night's rest; 



lOO A TEXAS COW BOY, 

but we managed to "stay with 'em" this time; didn't 
even loose a steer. 

That morninof we struck out on the trail for Kan- 
sas. Everything went on smoothly with the excep- 
tion of a stampede now and then and a fuss with 
Jim Muckleroy, who was a regular old sore-head. 
Charlie, his brother was a white man. Where the 
trouble began, he wanted Coats and I, we being 
the only ones in the crowd who could ride wild 
horses — or at least who were willing to do so, to 
do the wild horse riding for nothing. We finally 
bolted and told him that we wouldn't ride another 
wild horse except our regular "mount," unless he 
gave us extra pay. You see he expected us to ride 
a horse a few times until he began to get docile and 
then turn him over to one of his muley pets while 
we caught up a fresh one. 

At High Hill in Fayette county I got the bounce 
from old Jim and a little further on Coats got the 
same kind of a dose; while nearing the northern 
state-line Geo. Gifford and Tom Merril, the boss, 
were fired; so that left old Jim in full charge. He 
hired other men in our places. He arrived in 
Wichita, Kansas with eight hundred steers, out of 
the eleven hundred we started with. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. lOI 

After leaving the outfit I rode to the Sunset rail- 
road at Shuzenburg and boarded a train for Col- 
umbus on the Colorado river. "Pat" Muckleroy, 
Charlie's son, who was about eighteen years old, 
quit and went with me. His home was in Columbus 
and he persuaded me to accompany him and have 
a good time. 

On arriving in Columbus I went with Pat to his 
home where I remained during my stay in that 
place. I found Mrs. M., Pat's mother, to be a kind- 
hearted old lady, and I never shall forget the big, 
fat apple cobblers she used to make; she could beat 
the world making them. There were also two young 
Misses in the family, Nannie and Mary, who made 
time pass off pleasantly with me. 

It being seventy-five miles to Tresspalacious and 
there being no railroad nearer than that, I had to 
wait for a chance to get home. I could have bought 
a horse and saddle when I first struck town but after 
remaining there a week I began to get light in the 
pocket, for it required quite a lot of money to keep 
up my end with the crowd that Pat associated with. 

At last after about a three weeks stay, I struck 
Asa Dawdy, an old friend from Tresspalacious. 
He was there with a load of stock and was just fix- 



102 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

ing to load them on the cars to ship them to Gal- 
veston when I ran afoul of him. He had sold his 
saddle and was going to put his pet pony, one that 
he wouldn't sell, into a pasture until some other 
time when he happened up there. So you see I was 
in luck; he turned the pony over to me to ride 
home on. 

After buying and rigging up a saddle I left town 
flat broke. I spent my last dime for a glass of 
lemonade just before leaving. Thus ended my first 
experience on the "trail." 



Chapter XI. 
BUYS A BOAT AND BECOMES A SAILOR. 

A three days' ride brought me to Grimes' ranch 
where I hoped to strike a job, but the old 
Qfent' informed me that he was full handed — had 
more men than he really needed. But he offered 
me a job cutting cord wood at a dollar a cord until 
there should be an opening for me, which he 
thought would be when the branding outfit arrived 
from Jackson county where it had gone quite a 
while before. 

"Cutting cord wood" sounded tough to me, but 
I finally agreed to try it a round or two, for I hated 
the idea of being "busted." Mr. Grimes was to ad- 
vance me about two weeks provisions on "tick," so 
I concluded I couldn't lose anything — unless it was 
a few pounds of muscle and I had grave doubts 
about that, for I knew my failing when it came to 
dabbling in wood. 

Before launching out into the wood business I 
borrowed a horse and struck out to hunt up old 



I04 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Satan so that I could ride around and find easy 
trees to cut down; I found him about thirty miles 
from Grimes' ranch; he was fat and wild; I had to 
get help to put him in a corral and when I mounted 
him he pitched like a wolf. He had forgotten that 
he had ever been ridden. 

The "wood camp" was three miles from the ranch 
in a thinly timbered bottom. I had to camp all by 
myself, which made it a disagreeable job. 

The first day, after locating camp, was spent in 
building a kind of Jim Crow shanty out of rotten 
logs — was saving my muscle to cut cord wood. 

Next morning bright and early I mounted Satan 
and rode around hunting some easy trees — ones 
that I thought would cut nicely. I marked about 
a dozen and went back to camp, it being noon by 
that time. 

After dinner I lay down to take a nap until 
evening when it would be cooler. About five o'clock 
I rolled up my sleeves and waded into a small, sickly 
pin-oak tree and the way chips flew for half an 
hour was a caution. I then put in the balance of 
the evening cording it up — that is what I had cut. 
It lacked considerable of being half a cord, but 
I filled in a lot of rotten chunks to make it pan out 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. IO5 

fifty cents worth. I slept sound that night for I 
was tired. 

Bright and early next morning I shouldered my 
axe and struck out to tackle another sickly pin-oak 
tree. While spitting on my hands and figuring on 
how many licks it would take to down the little sap- 
ling, I spied a large coon in a neighboring live-oak.. 
Now catching coons, you all know by this time was 
a favorite passtime with me, so dropping the axe I 
went for him. By the time I got part of him 
cooked it was noon ; and after dinner I fell asleep 
and dreamt happy dreams until after sundown. After 
supper I went turkey hunting and killed a fat 
gobbler. Thus ended my third day in a wood camp. 

I became tired of the cord wood business after 
two weeks time. It was too lonesome a work for 
a bo)' of my restless disposition. I mounted Satan 
one morning after devouring the last speck of grub 
in camp and struck out for the ranch. On my arrival 
there Mr. Grimes asked me how much wood I had ? 
I told him I thought there was enough to balance 
my grub bill. He said all right, he would send a 
man up there with me next morning to measure it. 
I finally informed him that it wasn't in shape for 
measuring, with the exception of half a cord that I 



I06 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

cut the first day, as it was scattered over a vast 
territory, two or three sticks in a place. 

I suppose he balanced my grub bill as he has 
never presented it yet. 

Just then I came across a factory hand, John 
Collier by name, who had a boat for sale. He had 
bought it for a pleasure boat but found he couldn't 
support such a useless piece of furniture. He 
offered it to me for forty dollars and he had paid 
one hundred for it. I tried to sell Satan so as to 
buy it, but no one would have him as a gift, as they 
said they would have to get their lives insured be- 
fore mounting him. 

I wanted the boat, but how to get her I did not 
know. I finally studied up a scheme: Mr. Collier 
wanted to buy a horse in case he sold the boat, so 
I began talking horse trade. Nothing but a gentle 
animal would suit he said. I then described one to 
him and asked how much he would take to-boot if 
the pony proved to be as I represented? "Ten dol- 
lars" said he; "she pops" continued I. So I started 
over to Cashe's creek to trade Horace Yeamans out 
of an old crippled pony that he couldn't get rid of. 
He was a nice looking horse and apparently as 
sound as a dollar; but on trottinof him around a 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. IO7 

short while he would become suddenly lame in both 
of his front leg's. 

Before starting to Cashe's creek next morning- 
Mr. Collier told me to try and get the horse there 
that night as, in case we made the trade, he and 
Mr. Murphy would start next morning on a pleasure 
trip to Columbia, a town forty miles east. I assured 
him that I would be back by dark. You see, that 
was a point gained, making the trade after dark. 

I succeeded in making the trade with Horace; he 
gave me "old gray" as he called him and fourteen 
dollars in money for my interest in three different 
brands of cattle. He afterwards sold the cattle for 
enough to buy a whole herd of crippled ponies. 

I rode back to Grimes' ranch very slowly so as 
not to cause old gray to become lame. 

I arrived there about sundown, but remained out 
in the brush until after dark! 

Mr. Collier, on being notified of my arrival, 
came out, lantern in hand, bringing his friend 
Murphy along to do the judging for him. He con- 
fessed that he was a very poor judge of a Spanish 
pony, not having been long in America. He was 
from "Hengland." 



I08 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

After examining old gray all over they both pro- 
nounced him a model of beauty — an honor to the 
mustang race. You see, he was hog fat, not hav- 
ing been used for so long. 

The trade was sealed that night and next morn- 
ing Mr. Collier, and Murphy, who already had a 
pony of his own, started on their forty mile journey. 
When within five miles of Elliott's ferry on the 
Colorado river, which was fifteen miles from Grimes' 
old gray gave out entirely, so that poor Collier had 
to hoof it to the ferry where he secured another 
horse. 

Now kind reader you no doubt think that a 
shabby trick. If so, all I can say is "such is life 
in the far west." 

Now that I was owner of a ship I concluded it 
policy to have a partner for company if nothing 
more, so I persuaded a young factory hand by the 
name of Sheiseinhamer or some such name to go 
in with me in my new enterprise. He only had 
ten dollars to invest, therefore I held the controlling 
interest. 

Our ship was schooner-rigged and would carry 
about three tons. Her name was "Great Eastern" 
but we changed it to "The Blood Hound." 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. IO9 

I turned Satan loose to rustle for himself (I after- 
wards sold him to a stra^iger for thirty dollars) and 
then pulled down the river for Matagorda Bay, a 
distance of fifteen miles. 

I concluded to go to the Peninsula and buy a load 
of melons that trip, as there were none on Tress- 
palacious. 

We struck the Bay just at dark; the water was 
terribly rough and the wind was so strong that it 
made the Blood Hound dip water and slide along as 
though it was fun. My young pard, who had never 
been on salt water before, having been raised in 
Saint Louis, turned pale behind the gills and wanted 
to turn back when the low streak of land behind us 
began to grow dim. But as I owned the controlling 
interest in the ship, I told him he would have to 
grin and bear it. He swore that would be his last 
trip and it was. He sold me his interest on the 
way back for eight dollars; he lost just two dollars 
besides his time in the speculation. 

Finally we hove in sight of the light house at 
Salura Pass. Then we were all rieht for I could 
tell just where to head for, although I hadn't been 
on the Bay much since leaving there in '67. But I 
had learned it thoroughly before then. 



no A TEXAS COW BOY, 

It was fifteen miles across the Bay to Fred Vogg's 
landing, where I had concluded to land. We arrived 
there about midnight and next morning walked up 
to Mr, Vogg's house, about half a mile for break- 
fast. The whole family were glad to see me — for 
the first time in eight years. 

I bought a load of melons delivered at the land- 
ing for five cents a head — or piece I should have 
said. 

The next evening we started back home, and 
arrived at Grimes' just as the whistle was tooting 
for dinner, next day. The whole crowd of factory 
hands, there being about seventy-five, made a 
break for the boat to fill up on melons. The largest 
I sold at fifty cents and the smallest at twenty-five. 
By night I had sold entirely out and started back 
after another load, all by myself this time, with the 
exception of a dog, a stray that I had picked up. 

I bought my melons at a different place this time, 
from a Mr. Joe Berge who lived a few miles above 
Mr. Vogg. I got them for two and a half cents a 
piece, therefore made a better "speck" than before. 
I struck a terrible storm on my return trip and came 
very near swamping. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. I I I 

I made my next trip to Indianola as I had four 
passengers to take down, at two dollars and a half 
a head. 

Shortly after landing in Indianola I got two pas- 
sengers, one of them a pretty young lady, Miss 
Ruthie Ward, to take to Sand Point in Lavaca 
county, just across the Bay from Indianola. 

I remained in Indianola two days "bucking" 
monte. I left there broke after paying for a load 
of melons. 



'^'^iSJtV?:?^^ 



Chapter XII. 

BACK TO MY FAVORITE OCCUPATION, 

THAT OF A WILD AND WOOLLY 

COW BOY. 

When the oyster season began, I abandoned 
the melon trade in favor of the former. 

I would load up at one of the many oyster reefs 
in the Bay and take them either to the factory or 
Indianola where they sold for one dollar a barrel, 
in the shell. 

Along in October sometime, I worked up a 
scheme by which I thought I could make a stake. 
My scheme was to get into the Colorado river 
where there were no boats and speculate among the 
africans that lined the river banks on both sides just 
as far up as it was navigable, which was fifty miles 
or more. 

The worst job was to get the boat into the river, 
the mouth of it being stopped up with a raft, or "drift" 
about eighteen miles long. 

My only show was to snake her across the prairie 
from the head of Willson's creek, a distance of five 



A TEXAS COW BOY. II3 

miles — and that I concluded to do if it took all the 
oxen in Matagorda county. 

As I needed a partner in my new enterprise, I 
managed to find one in the person of an old irish- 
man by the name of "Big Jack." He only had a 
capital of eighteen dollars but I agreed to give him 
half of the profits — which I figured on being very 
large. You see my intentions were to swap for 
hides, pecans, etc., which I would have hauled over- 
land to Willson's creek and from there to Indianola 
by sail boat. 

Our plans being laid we struck out for Indianola 
to buy our goods — all kinds of articles that we 
thought would catch the negro's eye, including a 
good supply of tanglefoot — which I am sorry to say 
cost me dear, besides being the cause of smashing 
my little scheme into a thousand fragments. 

We finally started back from Indianola with our 
load of goods; and Jack being an irishman, couldn't 
resist the temptation of taking a "wee drop of the 
critter" every fifteen or twenty minutes. The con- 
sequences were everything but edifying. 

I hired Anthony Moore, a gentleman of color to 
haul the Blood Hound and all of our traps to the 
river. 



114 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

We fixed rollers under the boat and after orettino- 
her out high and dry on the ball prairie, found that 
we didn't have oxen enough to carry out the job. 

While Anthony Moore wasoff rustling for a couple 
more yoke of cattle, I hired a horse to ride up to 
the Post Office after my mail, but before starting 
I gave Jack a raking over for remaining drunk so 
long. He hadn't drawn a sober breath since leav- 
ing town. 

When I returned next evening Jack was gone — 
no one there but my faithful dog, Ranger. 

I found Jack had taken a negro's skiff and pulled 
down Willson's creek, taking all of my snide jewelry, 
tobacco, etc. along. I traced him up to where he 
had sold a lot of the stuff. He sold an old english- 
man a lot of tobacco for seven dollars that didn't 
cost less than twenty. Being discouraged I sold 
the Blood Hound to Anthony Moore for twenty-five 
dollars, right where she lay, on the open prairie. 

I then hired to Wiley Kuykendall, who was buy- 
ing and shipping beeves at Houston, at twenty-five 
dollars per month. I left my companion. Ranger, 
with Anthony, paying him two dollars and a half a 
month for his board. But poor dog he met a sad 
fate the next winter durino- one of mv rash moments. 



BY ClIAS. A. SIRINGO. II5 

I was out after a wild bunch of horses one day 
and while trying to slip up on them unobserved 
Ranger and three others belonging to a neighbor 
made a break after a little calf that jumped up out 
of the tall grass, which of course scared the horses. 
I wanted to run after them as that was my best and 
only chance, but I hated to go off and let the dogs 
kill the poor little calf which they all four had hold 
of by that time. 

I finally galloped back and yelled myself hoarse 
trying to get them off; but no use, so drawing my 
pisiiol I began firing right and left. 

When the smoke cleared away I discovered two 
of the dogs lifeless and poor Ranger crawling up 
towards me howling with pain. He was shot through 
both shoulders. No, no! I didn't feel bad; it was 
some other youngster about my size. I dismounted 
and caressed the poor dumb brute, with tears in 
my eyes. It was ten miles to camp or the nearest 
ranch, therefore I had no alternative but to kill 
him — or leave him there to suffer and finally die. 
I had tried to lift him on my horse so as to take 
him to camp and try and doctor him up, but he was 
too heavy — being a large, powerful brute. 



I 1 6 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

I made several attempts to kill him, but every 
time I would raise the pistol to shoot he would look 
up into my eyes so pitifully as much as to say 
please don't kill me. I at last mounted my horse 
and after starting off wheeled around in my saddle 
and put a bullet between his eyes. Thus ended the 
life of as faithful a dog as ever lived. 

After New Year's I quit Mr. Wiley and went to 
work again on my own hook, skinning cattle and 
branding Mavricks. I had bought me a twenty-five 
dollar horse for the occasion. 

I established my camp at the head of Cashe's 
creek, three miles above Mr. Yeamans.' The only 
company I had was Ranger and I didn't have him 
but a short while, as you already know. 

Cattle died pretty badly that winter and therefore 
I made quite a pile of money, besides branding a 
great many Mavricks. 

About the middle of April I met with a painful and 
almost fatal accident — got shot through the knee 
with one of those old time dragoon pistols, which 
carry a very large ball. 

The bullet entered the top of my knee and came 
out — or at least was cut out — on the opposite side; 
went right through the knee-cap. The doctor who 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. II/ 

waited on me said I would be a cripple for life, but 
he missed his guess, although I have received an- 
other bullet hole through the same knee since then. 

After getting wounded I remained at Mr. Yea- 
mans' awhile and then went down to Mr. Morris' 
on Tresspalacious Bay to board. 

When I got so that I could move around on 
crutches I went up to Mr. John Pierce's ranch to 
live. Mr. Pierce had persuaded me to put in my 
time going to school while unable to work. He 
gave me my board and washing free and all I had to 
do was to take care of the "children," little Johnny 
Pierce, eight years old, Mamie Pierce, "Shang's" 
only child, twelve years old and a Miss Fannie 
Elliott, sweet sixteen. The school house being two 
miles off, we had to ride on horseback. 

I would have had a soft time of it all summer, 
but before two weeks rolled around I had a fuss 
with the red complexioned school master. I then 
mounted "Boney-part" and struck out for Houston, 
ninety miles east. 

I arrived in Houston during the State Fair. 
Everything was lively there — in fact too lively for 
me. The first thing I did was to strike a monte 



I l8 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

game and the second thing was lose nearly all the 
money I had. 

After quitting the monte game I struck out to 
hunt aunt "Mary" whom I heard had moved to 
Houston from Galveston. I had never seen her 
that I remembered of, but held her in high esteem 
for her kindness in sending me the white canvas 
breeches during the war. 

I found her after hunting all day; she kept a pri- 
vate boarding house close to the Union depot. 
She appeared to be glad to see me. 

The next day aunt Mary's husband, Mr. James 
McClain, took me out to the Fair ground to see 
the sights. The biggest sight to me was Jeff. Davis, 
although I was deceived as to his makeup; I expected 
to see a portly looking man on a gray horse. 

May -be the following song that I used to sing 

during the war had something to do with that, for 

it ran thus: 

Jeff Davis is our President, 
And Lincoln is a fool, 
Jeff Davis rides a big gray horse 
While Lincoln rides a mule. 



Chapter XIII. 
MOTHER AND I MEET AT LAST. 

"TT'fter spending a week with aunt Mary, I grew 
Ajl restless and pulled for Galveston to visit my 
uncle "Nick." I went by way of steamboat down 
Buffalo bayou, leaving my horse and saddle in 
Houston. 

I landed in the "Island City" one evening about 
dark. The first man I met, I inquired of him, if 
he knew where Mr. Nicholas White lived? "Why 
of course," was his quick answer, "I have known 
him for seventeen years." He then gave me the 
directions how to find him. 

His wife, whom he had just married a short while 
before, she being his second wife, met me at the 
door and escorted me to the bed room where I 
found the old fellow three sheets in the wind. He 
soon braced up though and tendered me a hearty 
welcome. 

The next day he spent in showing me around the 
city and introducing me to his friends as his little 
nephew who had to "skip" from western Texas for 



I20 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Stealing cattle. I remember there were several high 
toned officials among the ones he introduced me to; 
one of them I think was Tom Ochiltree — a red- 
headed Congressman or Senator, I forget which. 

The old gentleman had a horse and buggy, conse- 
quently I had a regular picnic, during my stay, 
driving up and down the beach watching the pretty 
girls go in bathing. 

I remained there two weeks and on taking my 
departure uncle "Nick" presented me with a Spen- 
cer Carbine — one he had captured from a yankee 
while out scouting during the war. I was very 
proud of the gift for I had never owned a repeating 
rifle before. 

I landed in Houston flat broke, but wasn't long 
in making a raise of ten dollars from aunt Mary. 
Boney-part had been taken good care of during my 
absence, which made him feel too rollicky — he tried 
to pitch me off when I got on him. 

After bidding aunt Mary and uncle "Jim" good- 
bye I struck out for Allen, Pool & Co.'s ranch on 
Simms' bayou. There I hired to a Mr. Joe Davis of 
Clear creek, who had the contract furnishing beef 
to the Gulf, Colorado and Santa Fe R. R. which 
was just building out from Galveston. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 12 1 

About the first of September I mounted Ranger, 
a pony I swapped Boney-part for and lit out for 
Tresspalacious. My wound by that time was about 
well. 

On arriving at Mr. "Tom" Kuykendall's at the 
head of Tresspalacious river, I learned that mother 
was at Mr. Morris', at the mouth of Cashes creek, 
waiting for me. She had arrived there just a few 
days after my departure — for parts unknown, as 
no one knew where I was going. 

You see after getting shot I wrote to mother 
telling her of the accident and also sending her 
some money, as I was in the habit of doing when 
flush. Hence, like a kind mother, she came out to 
be of service to me, but arrived too late. 

It is needless to say we were glad to meet, for 
the first time in several long years. 

I went right to work trying to rig up a home for 
her. She had brought some money with her and I 
sold a lot of Mavricks — some of those I branded the 
winter previous — for two dollars a head, therefore 
we both together had money enough to build and 
furnish a shanty. 

As Mr. Morris was just going to Indianola in his 
schooner we sent by him after our lumber, etc. 



12 2 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

But before he got there the "big" storm, which swept 
nearly every soul from the Peninsula and nearly 
wiped Indianola out of existence, struck him and 
scattered his boat, money and everything he had 
aboard to the four winds of Heaven. He and his 
son "Tom" barely escaped with their own lives. 

Mother and I experienced a share of the same 
storm too; we were still at Mr. Morris.' The storm 
came about ten o'clock at night and blew the Mor- 
ris mansion down, leaving us, Mrs. Morris, her 
three children and a step-son, "Jim," mother and 
myself to paddle around in water up to our waists 
until morning. 

When daylight came the Bay shore was lined 
with dead cattle just as far as the eye could reach; 
cattle that had blown into the water and drowned. 

When Mr. Morris got back he started a new 
ranch up at the head of Cashe's creek, where I had 
camped the winter before and I built mother a 
shanty a few hundred yards from his, so she 
wouldn't get lonesome while I was away. 

I built it out of an old torn dov/n house that I 
bought from Mr. John Pierce on "tick" for I was 
then financially "busted." 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. I 23 

Cattle didn't die very badly that coming winter, 
therefore I did not make much money. But to- 
wards spring I got my work in branding Mavricks. 
Some days I would brand as high as fifteen or 
twenty head. 

That spring there was a law passed prohibiting 
the carrying of pistols and I was the first man to 
break the law, for which they socked a heavier fine 
to me than I was able to pay; but I found a good 
friend in the person of Mr. John Pierce who loaned 
me the desired amount without asking for it. 

The first of- April I hired to W. B. Grimes to go 
"up the trail" at thirty dollars per month. I bade 
mother good bye, promising to return, sure, that 
coming fall. 

Our outfit consisted of twenty-five hundred head 
of old mossy-horn steers, a cook and twenty-five 
riders, including the boss, Asa Dawdy, with six 
head of good horses to the man. 

Everything went on lovely with the exception of 
swimming swollen streams, fighting now and then 
among ourselves and a stampede every stormy night, 
until we arrived on the Canadian river in the Indian 
territory; there we had a little Indian scare. When 
within a few miles of the river, Dawdy went on 



124 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

ahead to look up a good crossing-; it wasn't long 
until we discovered a terrible dust on the trail be- 
tween us and the river; it looked like it might be a 
cyclone coming, but instead of that it was our boss 
returning. He galloped up almost out of wind 
telling us to stop the herd and make preparations 
for war, as the woods along the river were covered 
with Indians on the war path. 

After getting everything in shape for war, he 
selected two of his best armed men, which hap- 
pened to be Otto Draub and myself, to go back with 
him and try to make peace with the red devils. We 
scoured the woods out thoroughly, but only suc- 
ceeded in finding one old, blind "buck." Asa had, 
no doubt, seen him and imagined the rest. From 
that time on though we were among indians all the 
time; and they used to try and scare Asa into giving 
them "wo-ha's," (cattle) but he wasn't one of the 
scaring kind — except when taken by surprise. 

Everything went on smoothly again until we ar- 
rived at "Salt Fork" close to the Kansas line. It 
was raining and storming terribly when we hove in 
sight of the above named river. Asa went on 
ahead with the wagons — we having an extra one 
alonp- then to haul wood and water in — to find a 



BY CHAS. A, SIRINGO. I 25 

crossing, but on arriving there he found it very 
high, almost swimming; he succeeded in getting 
both wagons over though. He then galloped back 
to hurry the herd up. 

We were just about a mile from the river when 
he came dashing up saying: "Whoop 'em up boys! 
for she's rising a foot every second." 

When we got there she was "bank full" and still 
rising. It was at least half a mile to the opposite 
side and drift wood was coming down at a terrible 
rate, which made it dangerous to cross. But the 
wagons being over made it a ground hog case — or 
at least we thought so. 

The old lead steers went right into the foaming 
water without a bit of trouble and of course the 
balance followed. 

Henry Coats was in the lead of the herd, Asa 
Dawdy and Otto Draub on the left point, while 
negro "Gabe" and I kept them from turning to the 
right. 

We were all — that is we fellows on the points — 
out in swimming water when Henry Coats' horse 
went under, which scared the leaders, causing the 
whole herd to turn back amidst terrible confusion. 
Coats came very near drowning. We worked for 



126 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

half an hour or more trying to get the herd to take 
water again, but failed. The river continued to rise 
until she was over a mile wide. 

Suffice it to say, we remained there seven days 
without anything to eat except fresh meat without 
salt. It rained during the whole time nearly, so 
that we didn't get much sleep on account of having 
to stay with the cattle night and day. 

The first orub we g-ot was from a lot of soldiers 

o o 

camped on the opposite side of the wicked little 
stream "Wild Horse." They were waiting for it to 
go down so they could proceed to Wichita, Kansas, 
their destination. 

The boss, Dawdy, a fellow by the name of 
Hastings and myself found the "blue coats" while 
out hunting a lot of steers lost the night before dur- 
ing a severe storm. We had spied the white tents 
off to the southward and pulled out for them, in 
a gallop. 

On arriving within a few hundred yards we found 
out that a swift stream of muddy water laid be- 
between us. 

They were camped right on the opposite bank 
from where we stood. Dawdy yelled over asking 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 12/ 

if they could spare some chuck? "Yes" was the 
quick response, "If you will come over after it." 

Dawdy and Hastings both looked at me, as much 
as to say: "Charlie it all depends on you." I was 
considered an extra good swimmer. 

After shedding my heaviest clothes — there being 
officers' wives in camp, so that I couldn't undress 
altogether — I put spurs to "Yankee-doodle" and 
went into her. It was at least two hundred yards 
across, but I made it all O. K. 

When the captain found out how long we had 
been without grub he ordered the cook to bring out 
some cold biscuits. He brought out a large pan 
full, and after I got my fists full, a lot of the sol- 
diers took the balance and selecting a narrow place, 
threw them over one by one to Dawdy and Hastings. 

After hidino- a dozen or two fat Government bis- 
cuits under my belt, I began studying up a plan by 
which I could get some flour and salt, also coffee, 
over. At last I hit upon a plan : I got a wash-tub 
from the captain's wife and filling it full of such 
stuff as we needed, launched her out into the water; 
I swam by the side of it and landed on the op- 
posite side about half a mile below where I started 
in at. I then took the tub back thanked our bene- 



128 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

factors, mounted Yankee-doodle and pulled for the 
other shore feeling a thousand per cent, better. 

We arrived at camp about sundown and the boys 
went to work baking bread by rolling the dough 
around a stick and holding it over the fire. Some 
of them sat up all night eating, trying to make up 
for lost time. 

The sun came out next mornino- for the first time 
in eight long days and towards evening we made it 
across the river. The wagons we found at the "Pond 
Creek" ranch near the Kansas line. The cooks had 
been having a soft time. 



Chapter XIV. 
ON A TARE IN WICHITA. KANSAS. 

On the fourth day of July, after being on the 
trail just three months, we landed on the "Ninna- 
squaw" river, thirty miles west of Wichita, Kansas. 

Nearly all the boys, the boss included, struck out 
for Wichita right away to take the train for Hous- 
ton, Texas, the nearest railroad point to their 
respective homes. Mr. Grimes paid their railroad 
fares according to custom in those days. I con- 
cluded I would remain until fall. 

Mr. Grimes had come around by rail, consequently 
he was on hand to receive us. He already had sev- 
eral thousand steers — besides our herd — on hand; 
some that he drove up the year before and others he 
bought around there. He had them divided up into 
several different herds — about eight hundred to the 
herd — and scattered out into different places, that 
is each camp off by itself, from five to ten miles 
from any other. With each herd or bunch would be 
a cook and "chuck" wagon, four riders, a "boss" 



I 30 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

included — and five horses to the rider. During the 
day two men would "herd" or watch the cattle until 
noon and the other two until time to "bed" them, 
which would be about dark. By "bedding" we 
mean take them to camp, to a certain high piece of 
ground suitable for a "bed ground" where they 
would all lie down until morning, unless disturbed 
by a storm or otherwise. The nights would be di- 
vided up into four equal parts — one man "on" at a 
time, unless storming, tormented with mosquitos or 
something of the kind, when every one except the 
cook would have to be "out" sinoino; to them. 

The herd I came up the trail with was split into 
three bunches and I was put with one of them un- 
der a man by the name of Phillups, but shortly 
afterwards changed and put with a Mr. Taylor. 

I spent all my extra time when not on duty, 
visiting a couple of New York damsels, who lived 
with their parents five miles east of our camp. They 
were the only young ladies in the neighborhood, 
the country being very thinly settled then, therefore 
the boys thought I was very "cheeky" — getting on 
courting terms with them so quick. One of them 
finally "put a head on me" — or in grammatical 
words, gave me a black eye — which chopped my 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. I3I 

visits short off; she didn't understand the Texas 
way of proposing for one's hand in marriage, was 
what caused the fracas. She was cleaning roasting- 
ears for dinner when I asked her how she would 
like to jump into double harness and trot through 
life with me? The air was full of flying roasting- 
ears for a few seconds — one of them striking me 
over the left eye — and shortly afterwards a young 
Cow Puncher rode into camp with one eye in a 
sling. You can imagine the boys giving it to me 
about monkeying with civilized girls, etc. 

After that I became very lonesome; had nothing 
to thin!: of but my little Texas girl — the only one 
on earth I loved. While sitting "on herd" in the hot 
sun, or lounging around camp in the shade of the 
wagon — there being no trees in that country to sup- 
ply us with shade — my mind would be on nothing 
but her. I finally concluded to write to her and find 
out just how I stood. As often as I had been with her 
I had never let her know my thoughts. She being 
only fourteen years of age, I thought there was 
plenty time. I wrote a long letter explaining every- 
thing and then waited patiently for an answer. I 
felt sure she would give me encouragement, if noth- 
ing more. 



132 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

A month passed by and still no answer. Can it 
be possible that she don't think enough of me 1 
answer my letter? thought I. "No," I would finally 
decide, "she is too much of an angel to be guilty 
of such." 

At last the supply wagon arrived from Wichita 
and among the mail was a letter for me. I was on 
herd that forenoon and when the other boys came 
out to relieve Collier and I, they told me about 
there being a letter in camp for me, written by a fe- 
male, judging from the fine hand-writing on the 
envelope. 

I was happy until I opened the letter and read a 
few lines. It then dropped from my fingers and 1 
turned deathly pale. Mr. Collier wanted to know 
if some of my relations wasn't dead? Suffice it to 
say that the object of my heart was married to my 
old playmate Billy Williams. The letter went on to 
state that she had given her love to another and 
that she never thought I loved her only as a friend, 
etc. She furthermore went on advising me to grin 
and bear it, as there were just as good fish in the 
sea as ever was caught. 

I wanted some one to kill me, so concluded to 
go to the Black hills — as everyone was flocking 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 1 33 

there then. Mr. Collier, the same man I traded 
the crippled horse to — agreed to go with me. So 
we both struck out for Wichita to settle up with 
daddy Grimes. Mr. Collier had a good horse of 
his own and so did I; mine was a California pony 
that I had given fifty-five dollars for quite awhile 
before. My intention was to take him home and 
make a race horse of him; he was only three years 
old and according to my views a "lightning striker." 

After settling up, we, like other "locoed" Cow 
Punchers proceeded to take in the town, and the 
result was, after two or three days carousing around, 
we left there "busted" with the exception of a few 
dollars. 

As we didn't have money enough to take us to 
the Black hills, we concluded to pull for the Med- 
icine river, one hundred miles west. 

We arrived in Kiowa, a little one-horse town on 
the Medicine, about dark one cold and disagreeable 
evening. 

We put up at the Davis House, which was kept 
by a man named Davis — by the way one of the 
whitest men that ever wore shoes. Collier made 
arrangements that night with Mr. Davis to board 



I 34 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

US on "tick" until we could get work. But I wouldn't 
agree to that. 

The next morning after paying my night's lodg- 
ing I had just one dollar left and I gave that to 
Mr. Collier as I bade him adieu. I then headed 
southwest across the hills, not having any destina- 
tion in view; I wanted to go somewhere but didn't 
care where. To tell the truth I was still somewhat 
rattled over my recent bad luck. 

That night I lay out in the brush by myself and 
next morning changed my course to southeast, 
down a creek called Driftwood. About noon I ac- 
cidently landed in Gus Johnson's Cow camp at the 
forks of Driftwood and "Little Mule" creeks. 

I remained there all night and next morning when 
I was fixing to pull out — God only knows where, 
the boss, Bill Hudson, asked me if I wouldn't stay 
and work in his place until he went to Hutchison, 
Kansas and back? I agreed to do so finally if he 
would furnish "Whisky-peat," my pony, all the corn 
he could eat — over and above my wages, which were 
to be twenty-five dollars a month. The outfit con- 
sisted of only about twenty-five hundred Texas 
steers, a chuck wagon, cook and five riders besides 
the boss. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. I 35 

A few days after Mr. Hudson left we experienced 
a terrible severe snow storm. We had to stay with 
the drifting- herd night and day, therefore it went 
rough with us — myself especially, being from a 
warm climate and only clad in common garments, 
while the other boys were fixed for winter. 

When Mr. Hudson came back from Hutchison 
he pulled up stakes and drifted south down into the 
Indian territory — our camp was then on the terri- 
tory and Kansas line — in search of good winter 
quarters. 

We located on the "Eagle Chief" river, a place 
where cattle had never been held before. Cattle- 
men in that section of country considered it better 
policy to hug the Kansas line on account of indians. 

About the time we became settled in our new 
quarters, my month was up and Mr. Hudson paid 
me twenty-five dollars, telling me to make that my 
home all winter if I wished. 

My "pile" now amounted to forty-five dollars, 
having won twenty dollars from one of the boys, 
Ike Berry, on a horse race. They had a race horse 
in camp called "Gray-dog," who had never been 
beaten, so they said, but I and Whisky-peat done 
him up, to the extent of twenty dollars, in fine shape. 



136 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

I made up my mind that I would build me a "dug- 
out" somewhere close to the Johnson camp and put 
in the winter hunting and trapping. Therefore as 
Hudson was going to Kiowa, with the wagon, after 
a load of provisions, etc., I went along to lay me 
in a supply also. 

On arriving at Kiowa I found that my old "pard" 
Mr. Collier had struck a job with a cattleman whose 
ranch was close to town. But before spring he left 
for good "Hold Hengland" where a large pile of 
money was awaiting him; one of his rich relations 
had died and willed him everything he had. We 
suppose he is now putting on lots of "agony," if 
not dead, and telling his green countrymen of his 
hair-breadth escapes on the wild Texas plains. 

We often w^onder if he forgets to tell of his ex- 
perience with "old gray," the pony I traded to him 
for the boat. 

After sending mother twenty dollars by registered 
mail and laying in a supply of corn, provisions, 
ammunition, etc., I pulled back to Eagle Chief, to 
make war with wild animals — especially those that 
their hides would bring me in some money, such as 
gray wolves, coyotes, wild cats, buffaloes and bears. 
I left Kiowa with just three dollars in money. 



BY CllAS. A. SIRINGO. I 37 

The next morning after arriving in camp I took 
my stuff and moved down the river about a mile 
to where I had already selected a spot for my win- 
ter quarters. 

I worked like a turk all day long building me a 
house out of dry poles — covered with grass. In 
the north end I built a "sod" chimney and in the 
south end, left an opening for a door. When fin- 
ished it lacked about two feet of being high enough 
for me to stand up straight in. 

It was almost dark and snowing terribly when I 
got it finished and a fire burning in the low, Jim 
Crow fire-place. I then fed Whisky-peat some corn 
and stepped out a few yards after an armful of good 
solid wood for morning. On getting about half an 
armful of wood gathered I heard something crack- 
ling and looking over my shoulder discovered my 
mansion in flames. I got there in time to save 
nearly everything in the shape of bedding, etc. 
Some of the grub, being next to the fire-place, was 
lost. I slept at Johnson's camp that night. 

The next morning I went about two miles down 
the river and located another camp. This time I 
built a dug-out right on the bank of the stream, in 
a thick bunch of timber. 



130 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

I made the dug-out in a curious shape; started in 
at the edge of the steep bank and dug a place six 
feet long, three deep and three wide, leaving the 
end next to the creek open for a door. I then com- 
menced at the further end and dug another place 
same size in an opposite direction, which formed an 
"L." I then dug still another place, same size, 
straight out from the river which made the whole 
concern almost in the shape of a "Z." In the end 
furthest from the stream I made a fire-place by 
digging the earth away — in the shape of a regular 
fire-place. And then to make a chimney I dug a 
round hole, with the aid of a butcher knife, straight 
up as far as I could reach; then commencing at the 
top and connecting the two holes. The next thing 
was to make it "draw," and I did that by cutting 
and piling sods of dirt around the hole, until about 
two feet above the level. 

I then proceeded to build a roof over my 3x18 
mansion. To do that I cut green poles four feet 
long and laid them across the top, two or three 
inches apart. Then a layer of grass and finally, to 
finish it off, a foot of solid earth. She was then 
ready for business. My idea in making it so 
crooked was, to keep the Indians, should any hap- 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 1 39 

pen along at night, from seeing my fire. After 
getting established in my new quarters I put out 
quite a number of wolf baits and next morning 
in going to look at them found several dead wolves 
besides scores of skunks, etc. But they were frozen 
too stiff to skin, therefore I left them until a warmer 
day. 

The next morning on crawling out to feed my 
horse I discovered it snowing terribly, accompanied 
with a piercing cold norther. I crawled back into 
my hole after making Whisky-peat as comfortable 
as possible and remained there until late in the even- 
ing, when suddenly disturbed by a horny visitor. 

It was three or four o'clock in the evening, while 
humped up before a blazing fire, thinking of days 
gone by, that all at once, before I had time to 
think, a large red steer came tumbling down head 
first, just missing me by a few inches. In traveling 
ahead of the storm the whole Johnson herd had 
passed right over me, but luckily only one broke 
through. 

Talk about your ticklish places ! That was truly 
one of them; a steer jammed in between me and 
daylight, and a hot fire roasting me by inches. 



140 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

I tried to get up through the roof — it being only 
a foot above my head — but failed. Finally the old 
steer made a terrible struggle, just about the time 
I was fixing to turn my wicked soul over to the 
Lord, and I got a glimpse of daylight under his 
flanks. I made a dive for it and by tight squeezing 
I saved my life. 

After getting out and shaking myself I made a 
vow that I would leave that God-forsaken country 
in less than twenty-four hours; and I did so. 



Chapter XV. 
A LONELY TRIP DOWN THE CIMERON. 

The next morning- after the steer racket I pulled 
out for Kiowa, Kansas. It was then sleetino- 
from the north, consequently I had to face it. 

About three oclock in the evening I changed my 
notion and concluded to head for Texas. So I 
turned east, down the Eagle Chief, to where it 
emptied into the Cimeron, and thence down that 
stream; knowing that I was bound to strike the 
Chisholm trail — the one I came up on, the spring 
before. 

I camped that night at the mouth of Eagle Chief, 
and went to roost on an empty stomach, not having 
brought any grub with me. I was then in the west- 
ern edge of what is known as the Blawk-jack coun- 
try, which extends east far beyond the Chisholm 
trail. 

The next morning I continued down the Cim- 
eron, through Black-jack timber and sand hills. 
To avoid the sand hills, which appeared fewer on 



142 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

the opposite side, I undertook to cross the river, 
but bogged down in the quicksand and had to turn 
back. 

That night I camped between two large sand 
hills and made my bed in a tall bunch of blue-stem 
grass. I went to bed as full as a tick, as I had just 
eaten a mule-eared rabbit, one I had slipped up 
onto and killed with a club. I was afraid to shoot 
at the large droves of deer and turkeys, on account 
of the country being full of fresh Indian signs. 

I crawled out of my nest next morning almost 
frozen. I built a roaring big fire on the south edge 
of the bunch of tall grass so as to check the cold 
piercing norther. After enjoying the warm fire a few 
moments, I began to get thirsty and there being no 
water near at hand, I took my tin cup and walked 
over to a larg-e snow-drift a short distance off, to 
get it full of clean snow, which I intended melting 
by the fire to quench my burning thirst. 

While filling the cup I heard a crackling noise 
behind me and looking over my shoulder discovered 
a blaze of fire twenty feet in the air and spreading at 
a terrible rate. I arrived on the scene just in time 
to save Whisky-peat from a horrible death. He 
was tied to a tree, the top limbs of which were al- 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. I 43 

ready in a blaze. I also managed to save my saddle 
and an old piece of saddle blanket, they being out 
under the tree that Whisky-peat was tied to. I 
didn't mind losing my leather leggins, saddle blan- 
kets, etc., so much as I did the old dilapidated 
overcoat that contained a little silver-plated match 
box in one of the pockets. 

That day I traveled steady, but not making very 
rapid progress, on account of winding around sand 
hills, watching for Indians and going around the 
heads of boggy sloughs. I was certain of striking 
the Chisholm trail before night, but was doomed to 
disappointment. 

I pitched camp about nine o'clock that night and 
played a single-handed game of freeze-out until 
morning, not having any matches to make a fire 
with. 

I hadn't gone more than two miles next morning 
when I came across a camp-fire, which looked as 
though it had been used a few hours before; on 
examination I found it had been an indian camp, 
just vacated that morning. The trail, which con- 
tained the tracks of forty or fifty head of horses, 
led down the river. After warming myself I struck 
right out on their trail, being very cautious not to 



144 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

run onto them. Every now and then I would dis- 
mount and crawl to the j;op of a tall sand hill to see 
that the road was clear ahead. 

About noon I came to a large creek, which proved 
to be "Turkey Creek." The reds had made a good 
crossing by digging the banks down and breaking 
the ice. 

After crossing-, I hadn't o-one but a short distance 
when I came in sight of the Chisholm trail. I never 
was so Pflad to see anvthino- before — unless it was 
the litde streak of daylight under the steer's flanks. 

The indians on striking the trail had struck south 
on it; and after crossing the Cimeron I came in sight 
of them, about five miles ahead of me. I rode 
slow so as to let them cret out of sigrht. I didn't 
care to come in contact with them for fear they 
might want my horse and possibly my scalp. 

About dark that evening I rode into a large camp 
of Government freigfhters, who informed me that 
the fifty indians who had just passed — being on 
their way back to the reservation — were Kiowas 
who had been on a hunting expedition. 

I fared well that night, got a good supper and a 
warm bed to sleep in — besides a good square meal 
of corn and oats for my horse. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 1 45 

The next morning before starting on my journey, 
an old irish teamster by the name of "Long Mike" 
presented me with a pair of pants — mine being al- 
most in rags — and a blue soldier coat, which I can 
assure you I appreciated very much. 

About dusk that evening, I rode into Cheyenne 
Agency and that night slept in a house for the first 
time since leaving Kiowa — in fact I hadn't seen a 
house since leavinpf there. 

The next morning I continued south and that 
night put up at "Bill" Williams' ranch on the "South 
Canadian" river. 

Shortly after leaving the Williams ranch next 
morning I met a crowd of Chickasaw Indians who 
bantered me for a horse race. As Whisky-peat 
was tired and foot-sore, I refused; but they kept 
after me until finally I took them up. I put up my 
saddle and pistol against one of their ponies. The 
pistol I kept buckled around me for fear they might 
try to swindle me. The saddle I put up and rode 
the race bare-back. I came out ahead, but not 
enough to brag about. They gave up the pony 
without a murmer, but tried to persuade me to run 
against one of their other ponies, a much larger 
and finer looking one. I rode off thanking them 



1 46 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

very kindly for what they had already done for me. 

That night I put up at a ranch on the Washita 
river and next morning before leaving swapped my 
Indian pony off for another one and got ten dollars 
to-boot. 

That morning I left the Chisholm trail and struck 
down the Washita river, in search of a good, lively 
place where I might put in the balance of the winter, 

I landed in Erin Springs late that evening and 
found a grand ball in full bloom at Frank JMurry's 
mansion. The dancers were a mixed crowci, the 
ladies being half-breeds and the men, mostly amer- 
icans and verv toup-h citizens. 

Of course I joined the mob, being in search of 
excitement and had a gay old time drinking kill-me- 
quick whisky and swinging the pretty indian maid- 
ens. 

After breakfast next mornino- the whole crowd, 
ladies and all, went down the river five miles to 
witness a "big" horse race at "Kickapoo" fiat. 

After the "biof" race — which was for several thou- 
sand dollars — was over the day was spent in run- 
ning pony races and drinking whisky. By night the 
whole mob were gloriously drunk, your humble ser- 
vant included. There were several fights and fusses 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. I47 

took place during the day, but no one seriously 
hurt. 

It being against the laws of the United States 
to sell, or have whisky in the Indian territory, you 
might wonder where it came from: A man by the 
name of Bill Anderson — said to have been one of 
Ouantrell's men during the war — did the selling. 

He defied the United States marshalls and it was 
said that he had over a hundred indictments against 
him. He sold it at ten dollars a o-allon, therefore 
you see he could afford to run quite a risk. 

The next day on my way down the river to 
Paul's valley I got rid of my extra pony; I came 
across two apple peddlers who were on their way to 
Fort Sill with a load of apples and who had had the 
misfortune of losing one of their horses by death, 
the night before, thereby leaving them on the 
prairie helpless, unable to move on. They had no 
money to buy another horse with, having spent all 
their surplus wealth in Arkansas for the load of 
apples. When I gave them the pony, they felt 
very happy judging from their actions. On taking 
my departure one of them insisted on my taking his 
silver watch as a token of friendship. I afterwards 
had the watch stolen from me. 



148 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Well, patient reader, I will now drop the curtain 
for awhile. Just suffice it to say I had a tough time 
of it during the rest of the winter and came out 
carrying two bullet wounds. But I had some gay 
times as well as tough and won considerable money 
running Whisky-peat. 

The following May I landed in Gainesville, Texas, 
"right side up with care" and from there went to 
Saint Joe on the Chisholm trail, where I succeeded 
in getting a job with a passing herd belonging to 
Capt. Littlefield of Gonzales. The boss' name was 
"Jim" Wells and the herd contained thirty-five 
hundred head of stock catde. It being a terribly 
wet season we experienced considerable hardships, 
swimming swollen streams, etc. We also had some 
trouble with Indians. 

We arrived in Dodge City, Kansas on the third 
day of July and that night I quit and went to town 
to "whoop 'em up Liza Jane." 

I met an old friend that night by the name of 
"Wess" Adams and we both had a gay time, until 
towards morning when he got severely stabbed in a 
free-to-all fight. 

On the morning of July fifth I hired to David T. 
Beals — or the firm of Bates & Beals, as the outfit 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. . 1 49 

was commonly called — to help drive a herd of steers, 
twenty-five hundred head, to the Panhandle of 
Texas, where he intended startino- a new ranch. 

The next morning we struck out on the "Old Fort 
Bascom" trail. In a southwesterly direction. 

The outfit consisted of eioht men besides the 

o 

boss, Bill Allen, and "Deacon" Bates, one of Mr. 
Beals' silent partners, who was going along to lo- 
cate the new range and O. M. Johnson, the whole- 
souled ex-rebel cook. We had six extra good 
horses apiece, my six being named as follows: 
Comanche, Allisan, Last Chance, Creeping Moses, 
Damfido and Beat-and-be-damned. The last named 
was afterwards shot full of arrows because he 
wouldn't hurry while being driven off by a band of 
Indians who had made a raid on the camp. 



Chapter XVI. 

MY FIRST EXPERIENCE ROPING A 
BUFFALO. 

About the sixth day out from Dodge we crossed 
. the Cimeron and that evening I had a Httle 
excitement chasing a herd of buffaloes. 

After crossing the river about noon, we drove 
out to the divide, five or six miles and made a "dry" 
camp. It was my evening to lay in camp, or do 
anything else I wished. Therefore concluded I 
would saddle my little Indian mare — one I had 
traded for from an Indian — and take a hunt. 

About the time I was nearly ready to go Mr. 
Bates, seeing some of the cattle slipping off into a 
bunch of sand hills which were near the herd, asked 
me if I wouldn't ride out and turn them back. I 
went, leaving my pistol and gun in camp, thinking 
of course that I would be back in a few minutes. 
But instead of that I didn't get back until after dinner 
the next day. 







Of/ II 



^ '^..,1 






ill 

(tew 



A TEXAS COW BOY. I 5 I 

Just as I was starting back to camp, after turning 
the cattle, a large herd of buffaloes dashed by camp 
headed west. The boys all ran out with their guns 
and began firing. I became excited and putting 
spurs to my pony, struck out to overtake and kill 
a few of them, forgetting that I didn't have anything 
to shoot with. As they had over a mile the start it 
wasn't an easy matter to overtake them. It was 
about four o'clock in the afternoon and terribly hot; 
which of course cut off my pony's wind and checked 
her speed to a great extent. 

About sundown I overtook them. Their tongues 
were sticking out a yard. I took down my rope 
from the saddle-horn, having just missed my shoot- 
ing irons a few minutes before, and threw it onto 
a yearling heifer. When the rope tightened the 
yearling began to bleat and its mammy broke back 
out of the herd and took after me, I tried to turn 
the rope loose so as to get out of the way, but 
couldn't, as it was drawn very tight around the sad- 
dle-horn. To my great delight, after raking some 
of the surplus hair from my pony's hind quarters, 
she turned and struck out after the still fleeing herd. 

Now the question arose in my mind, "how are 
you going to kill your buffalo?" Break her neck 



152 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

was the only way I could think of; after trying it 
several times by running "against" the rope at full 
speed, I gave it up as a failure. I then concluded 
to cut the rope and let her go, so getting out my 
old frog-sticker — an old pocket knife I had picked 
up a few days before and which I used to clean my 
pipe — I went to work trying to open the little blade 
it being the only one that would cut hot butter. 
The big blade w^as open when I found it, conse- 
quently it was nothing but a sheet of rust. The 
little blade had become rusted considerably, which 
made it hard to open. Previous to that I always 
used my bowie knife, which at that time was hang- 
ing to my pistol belt, in camp, to open it with. 
After working a few minutes I gave up the notion 
of opening the little blade and went to work saw- 
ing at the rope with the big one. But I soon gave 
that up also, as I could have made just as much 
headway by cutting with my finger. At last I dis- 
mounted and went to him, or at least her, with 
nothing but my muscle for a weapon. 

I finally managed to get her down by getting one 
hand fastened to her under jaw and the other hold 
of one horn and then twisting her neck. As some 
of you might wonder why I had so much trouble with 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. I 53 

this little animal, when it is a known fact that one 
man by himself can tie down the largest domestic 
bull that ever lived, I will say that the difference 
between a buffalo and a domestic bull is, that the 
latter when you throw him hard against the ground 
two or three times, will lie still long enough to give 
you a chance to jump aboard of him, while the 
former will raise to his feet, instantly, just as long 
as there's a bit of life left. 

After getting her tied down with my "sash," a 
silk concern that I kept my breeches up with, I 
went to work opening the little blade of my knife. 
I broke the big one off and then used it for a pry to 
open the other with. 

When I orot her throat cut I concluded it a grood 
idea to take the hide along, to show the boys that I 
didn't have my run for nothing, so went to work 
skinning, which I found to be a tedious job with 
such a small knife-blade. 

It was pitch dark when I started towards camp 
with the hide and a small chunk of meat tied be- 
hind my saddle. 

After ridino- east about a mile, I abandoned the 
idea of going to camp and turned south facing the 



154 " A TEXAS COW BOY, 

cool breeze in hopes of finding water, my pony and 
I both being nearly dead for a drink. 

It was at least twenty miles to camp over a level, 
dry plain, therefore I imagined it an impossibility 
to eo that distance without water. As the streams 
all lay east and west in that country, I knew by 
going south I was bound to strike one sooner or ' 
later. 

About midnight I began to get sleepy, so, pulling 
the bridle off my pony so she could graze, I spread 
the buffalo hide down, hair up, and after wrapping 
the end of the rope, that my pony was fastened to 
around my body once or twice so she couldn't get 
loose without me knowing it, fell asleep. 

I hadn't slept long when I awoke, covered from 
head to foot with ants. The fresh hide had at- 
tracted them. 

After freeing myself of most of the little pests 
I continued my journey in search of water. 

About three o'clock in the morning I lay down 
again, but this time left the hide on my saddle. 

I think I must have been asleep about an hour 
when all at once my pony gave a tremendous 
snort and struck out at full speed, dragging me 
:.fter her. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 1 55 

You see I had wrapped the rope around my body 
as before and it held me fast some way or another; 
I suppose by getting tangled. Luckily for me 
though it came loose after dragging me about a 
hundred yards. 

You can imagine my feelings on gaining my feet, 
and finding myself standing on the broad prairie 
afoot. I felt just like a little boy does when he lets 
a bird slip out of his hand accidently — that is — ex- 
ceedingly foolish. 

The earth was still shaking and I could hear a 
roaring noise like that of distant thunder. A large 
herd of buffaloes had just passed. 

While standing scratching my head a faint noise 
greeted my ear; it was my pony snorting. A tramp 
of about three hundred yards brought me to her. 
She was shaking as though she had a chill. I 
mounted and continued my journey south, deter- 
mined on not stopping any more that night. 

About ten o'clock next morning I struck water 
on the head of Sharp's creek, a tributary to 
"Beaver" or head of North Canadian. 

When I got to camp — it having been moved south 
about twenty miles from where I left it — the boys 
had just eaten dinner and two of them were fixing 



156 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

to go back and hunt me up, thinking some sad 
misfortune had befallen me. 

When we got to Blue Creek, a tributary to South 
Canadian, camp was located for awhile, until a 
suitable location could be found for a permanent 
ranch. 

Mr. Bates struck out across the country to the Can- 
adian river, taking me along, to hunt the range — 
one large enough for at least fifty thousand cattle. 

After being out three days we landed in Tascosa, 
a little mexican town on the Canadian. There were 
only two americans there, Howard & Reinheart, 
who kept the only store in town. Their stock of 
goods consisted of three barrels of whisky and half 
a dozen boxes of soda crackers. 

From there we went down the river twenty-five 
miles where we found a little trading point, consist- 
ing of one store and two mexican families. The 
store, which was kept by a man named Pitcher, 
had nothing in it but whisky and tobacco. His cus- 
tomers were mostly transient buffalo hunters, they 
being mostly Indians and mexicans. He also made 
a business of dealing in robes, furs, etc., which he 
shipped to Fort Lyons, Colorado, where his part- 
ner, an officer in the United States Army lived. 



BY CIIAS. A. SIRINGO. I 57 

There were three hundred Apache Indians camped 
right across the river from "Cold Springs," as 
Pitcher called his ranch. 

A few miles below where the little store stood 
Mr. Bates decided on being the center of the 
"L. X." range; and right there, Wheeler post-office 
now stands. And that same range, which was then 
black with buffaloes, is now stocked with seventy- 
five thousand fine blooded cattle, and all fenced in. 
So you see time makes changes, even out here in 
the "western wilds." 



Chapter XVII. 
AN EXCITING TRIP AFTER THIEVES. 

■7¥"fter arriving on our newly located ranch we 
jrX counted the cattle and found the herd three 
hundred head short. 

Bill Allen, the boss, struck back to try and find 
their trail. He found it leading south from the 
"rifle pits." The cattle had stolen out of the herd 
without anyone finding it out; and of course find- 
ing themselves free, they having come from southern 
Texas, they headed south across the Plains. 

Allen came back to camp and taking me and two 
horses apiece, struck down the river to head them 
off. We made our headquarters at Fort Elliott and 
scoured the country out for a hundred miles square. 

We succeeded in getting about two hundred head 
of them; some had become wild and were mixed 
up with large herds of buffalo, while others had 
been taken up by ranchmen around the Fort and 
the brands disfigured. We got back to camp after 
being absent a month. 



A TEXAS COW BOY. I 59 

About the first of October four more herds ar- 
rived; three from Dodge and one from Grenada, 
Colorado, where Bates & Beals formerly had a large 
ranch. We then turned them all loose on the river 
and established "Sign" camps around the entire 
range, which was about forty miles square. The 
camps were stationed from twenty-five to thirty 
miles apart. There were two men to the camp and 
their duty was to see that no cattle drifted outside 
of the line — on their "ride," which was halfway to 
the next camp on each side, or in plainer words 
one man would ride south towards the camp in that 
direction, while his pard would go north until he 
met the man from the next camp, which would 
generally be on a hill, as near half way as possible. 
If any cattle had crossed over the line during the 
night they would leave a trail of course, and this 
the rider would follow up until he overtook them. 
He would then bring them back inside of the 
line; sometimes though they would come out so 
thick that half a dozen men couldn't keep them 
back, for instance, during a bad storm. Under 
such circumstances he would have to do the best he 
could until he got a chance to send to the "home 
ranch" for help. 



l6o A TEXAS COW BOY, 

A young man by the name of John Robinson 
and myself were put in a Sign camp ten miles south 
of the river, at the foot of the Staked Plains. It 
was the worst camp in the whole business, for three 
different reasons, the first one being, cattle naturally 
want to drift south in the winter, and secondly, the 
cold storms always came from the north, and the 
third and most objectionable cause was, if any hap- 
pened to get over the line onto the Staked plains 
during a bad snow storm they were considered gone, 
as there were no "breaks" or anything to check 
them for quite a distance. For instance, drifting 
southwest they would have nothing but a level plain 
to travel over for a distance of three hundred miles 
to the Pecos river near the old Mexico line. 

John and I built a small stone house on the head 
of "Bonetta" Canyon and had a hog killing time all 
by ourselves. Hunting was our delight at first, 
until it became old. We always had four or five 
different kinds of meat in camp. Buffalo meat was 
way below par with us, for we could go a few hun- 
dred yards from camp any time of day and kill any 
number of the woolly brutes. To give you an idea 
how thick buffaloes were around there that fall will 
say, at one time when we first located our camp on 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. l6l 

the Bonetta, there was a soHd string of them, from 
one to three miles wide, going south, which took 
three days and nights to cross the Canadian river. 
And at other times I have seen them so thick on 
the plains that the country would look black just as 
far as the eye could reach. 

Late that fall we had a change in bosses. Mr. 
Allen went home to Corpus Christi, Texas, and a 
man by the name of Moore came down from Col- 
orado and took his place. 

About Christmas we had a little excitement, chas- 
ing some mexican thieves, who robbed Mr. Pitcher 
of everything he had in his little Jim Crow store, 
John and I were absent from our camp, six days on 
this trip. There were nine of us in the persuing 
party, headed by Mr. Moore, our boss. We caught 
the outfit, which consisted of five men, all well 
armed and three women, two of them being pretty 
maidens, on the staked plains, headed for Mexico. 
It was on this trip that I swore off getting drunk, 
and I have stuck to it — with the exception of once 
and that was over the election of President Cleve- 
land — It happened thus: 

We rode into Tascosa about an hour after dark, 
having been in the saddle and on a hot trail all day 



1 62 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

without food or water. Supper being ordered we 
passed off the time waiting, by sampHng Howard 
and Reinheart's bug juice. 

Supper was called and the boys all rushed to the 
table — a few sheepskins spread on the dirt floor. 
When about through they missed one of their 
crowd — a fellow about my size. On searching far 
and near he was found lying helplessly drunk under 
his horse, Whisky-peet — who was tied to a rack in 
front of the store. A few glasses of salty water 
administered by Mr. Moore brought me to my right 
mind. Moore then after advising me to remain 
until morning, not being- able to endure an all ni^rht 
ride as he thought, called, "come on, fellers!" And 
mounting their tired horses they dashed off at al- 
most full speed. 

There I stood leaning against the rack not feeling 
able to move. Whisky-peet was rearing and pranc- 
ing in his great anxiety to follow the crowd. I 
finally climbed into the saddle, the pony still tied 
to the rack. I had sense enough left to know that 
I couldn't get on him if loose, in the fix I was in. 
Then pulling out my bowie knife I cut the rope and 
huo-ored the saddle-horn with both hands. I over- 
took and stayed with the crowd all night, but if 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 1 63 

ever a mortal suffered it was me. My stomach felt 
as though it was filled with scorpions, wild cats and 
lizards. I swore if God would forgive me for get- 
ine on that drunk I would never do so ao-ain. But 
the promise was broken, as I stated before, when I 
received the glorious news of Cleveland's election. 

After New Year's, Moore took Jack Ryan, Van- 
dozen and myself and went on an exploring expe- 
dition south, across the Staked plains, with a view 
of learning the country. . 

The first place we struck was Canyon Paladuro, 
head of Red river. The whole country over there 
was full of Indians and mexicans. We laid over two 
days in one of their camps, watching them lance 
buffaloes. From there we went to Mulberry where 
we put in three or four days hunting. When we 
pulled out again our pack-pony was loaded down 
with fat bear meat. 



Chapter XVIII. 
SEVEN WEEKS AMONG INDIANS. 

On our arrival back to the ranch, Moore rigged 
up a scouting outfit to do nothing but drift over 
the Plains in search of strayed cattle. 

The outfit consisted of a well-filled chuck-wagon, 
a number one good cook, Mr. O. M. Johnson, and 
three warriors, Jack Ryan, Vanduzen and myself. 
We had two good horses apiece, that is, all but my- 
self, I had three counting Whisky-peet. 

About the sixth day out we struck three thousand 
Comanche Indians and became pretty badly scared 
up. We had camped for the night on the plains, 
at the forks of Mulberry and Canyon Paladuro; a 
point from whence could be seen one of the roughest 
and most picturesque scopes of country in the west. 
The next morning Jack Ryan went with the 
wagon to pilot it across Mulberry Canyon, while 
"Van" and I branched off down into Canyon Pala- 
duro to look for cattle signs. We succeeded in 
finding two little knotty-headed two-year old steers 



A TEXAS COW BOY. 1 65 

with a bunch of buffalo. They were almost as wild 
as their woolly associates, but we managed to get 
them cut out and headed in the direction the wagon 
had gone. 

About noon, on turning a sharp curve in the can- 
yon, we suddenly came in full view of our wagon 
surrounded with a couple of thousand red skins, on 
horse back, and others still pouring down from the 
hills, on the east. 

It was too late to figure on what to do, for they 
had already seen us, only being about half a mile 
off. You see the two wild steers had turned the 
curve ahead of us and attracted the indians atten- 
tion in that direction. We couldn't see anything 
but the white top of our wagon, on account of the 
solid mass of reds, hence couldn't tell whether our 
boys were still among the living or not. We thought 
of running once, but finally concluded to go up and 
take our medicine like little men, in case they were 
on the war-path. Leaving Whisky-peet, who was 
tied behind the wagon, kept me from running more 
than anything else. 

On pushing our way through the mass we found 
the boys, Winchesters in hand, telling the old chiefs 
where to find plenty of buffalo. There were three 



I 66 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

thousand in the band, and they had just come from 
F^t. Sill, Indian Territory, on a hunting expedition. 
They wanted to get where buffaloes were plentiful 
before locating winter quarters. 

From that time on we were among indians all the 
time. The Pawnee tribe was the next we came in 
contact with. Close to the Indian Territory line we 
run afoul of the whole Cheyenne tribe. They were 
half starved, all the buffalo having drifted south, and 
their ponies being too poor and weak to follow them 
up. We traded them out of lots of blankets, trinkets, 
etc. For a pint of flour or coffee they would give 
their whole soul — and body thrown in for good 
measure. We soon ran out of chuck too, having 
swapped it all off to the hungry devils. 

We then circled around by Ft. Elliott, and up the 
Canadian river to the ranch, arriving there with 
eighteen head of our steers, after an absence of seven 
weeks. 

We only got to remain at the ranch long enough 
to get a new supply of chuck, etc., and a fresh lot 
of horses, as Moore sent us right back to the Plains. 
In a south-westerly direction this time. 

We remained on the Plains scouting around dur- 
ing the rest of the winter, only making short trips 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 1 67 

to the ranch after fresh horses and grub. We ex- 
perienced some tough times too, especially during 
severe snow storms when our only fuel, "buffalo- 
chips," would be covered up in the deep snow. 
Even after the snow melted off, for several days 
afterwards, we couldn't get much warmth out of the 
buffalo-chips, on account of them being wet. 

About the first of April, Moore called us in from 
the Plains to go up the river to Ft. Bascom, New 
Mexico, on a rounding-up expedition. We were 
gone on that trip over a month. 

On our arrival back, Moore went right to work 
gathering up everything on the range in the shape 
of catde, so as to "close-herd" them during the 
summer. His idea in doing that was to keep them 
tame. During the winter they had become almost 
beyond control. The range was too large for so 
few cattle. And another thing buffalo being so 
plentiful had a tendency to making them wild. 

About the first of June Moore put me in charge 
of an outfit, which consisted of twenty-five hundred 
steers, a wagon and cook, four riders, and five horses 
to the man or rider. He told me to drift over the 
Plains wherever I felt like, just so I brought the 
cattle in fat by the time cold weather set in. 



l68 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

It being an unusually wet summer the scores of 
basins, or "dry lakes," as we called them, contained 
an abundance of nice fresh water, therefore we 
would make a fresh camp every few days. The 
grass was also fine, being mostly buffalo-grass and 
nearly a foot high. If ever I enjoyed life it was 
that summer. No Hies or mosquitoes to bother, lots 
of game and a palmy atmosphere. 

Towards the latter part of July about ten thousand 
head of "through" cattle arrived from southern 
Texas. To keep the "wintered" ones from catching 
the "Texas fever," Mr. Moore put them all on the 
Plains, leaving the new arrivals on the north side of 
the river. There was three herds besides mine. 
And I was put in charge of the whole outfit, that is, 
the four herds; although they were held separate as 
before, with the regular number of men, horses, etc. 
to each herd. 

I then put one of my men in charge of the herd 
I had been holding, and from that time on until late 
in the fall I had nothing to do but ride from one 
herd to the other and see how they were getting 
along. Some times the camps would be twenty 
miles apart. I generally counted each bunch once 
a week, to be certain they were all there. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 1 69 

About the first of October, Moore came out and 
picked eight hundred of the fattest steers out of the 
four herds and sent them to Dodge to be shipped to 
Chicago. He then took everything to the river, to 
be turned loose onto the winter range until the next 
spring. 

When the hardest work was over — winter camps 
established, etc., I secured Moore's consent to let 
me try and overtake the shipping steers and 
accompany them to Chicago. So mounted on 
Whisky-peet I struck out, accompanied by one of 
the boys, John Farris. It was doubtful whether we 
would overtake the herd before being shipped, as 
they had already been on the road about fifteen 
days, long enough to have gotten there. 

The night after crossing the Cimeron river we 
had a little Indian scare. About three o'clock that 
afternoon we noticed two or three hundred mounted 
reds, off to one side of the road, marching up a 
ravine in single file. Being only a mile off, John 
proposed to me that we go over and tackle them for 
something to eat. We were terribly hungry, as well 
as thirsty. 

I agreed, so we turned and rode towards them. 
On discovering us they all bunched up, as though 



I 70 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

parleying. We didn't like such maneuvering, being 
afraid maybe they were on the war-path, so turned 
and continued our journey along the road, keeping 
a close watch behind for fear they might conclude 
to follow us. 

We arrived on Crooked Creek, where there was 
a store and several ranches, just about dark. On 
riding up to the store, where we intended stopping 
all night, we found it vacated, and everything turned 
up-side down as though the occupants had just left 
in a terrible hurry. Hearing some ox bells down 
the creek we turned in that direction, in hopes of 
finding something to eat. 

About a mile's ride brought us to a ranch where 
several yoke of oxen stood grazing, near the door. 
Findino- a sack of corn in a wao^on we fed our horses 

o o 

and then burst open the door of the log house, 
which was locked. Out jumped a little playful 
puppy, who had been asleep, his master having 
locked him up in there, no doubt, in his anxiety to 
pull for Dodge. 

Hanging over the still warm ashes was a pot of 
nice beef soup which had never been touched. And 
in the old box cupboard was a lot of cold biscuits and 
ajar of nice preserves, besides a jug of molasses, etc. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. I7I 

After filling up we struck out for Dodge, still a 
distance of twenty-five miles. We arrived there 
a short while after sun-up next morning; and the 
first man we met — an old friend by the name of 
Willingham — informed us of the Indian outbreak. 
There had been several men killed on Crooked 
Creek the evening before — hence John and I finding 
the ranches deserted. 

On riding through the streets that morning, 
crowds of women, some of them crying, seeing we 
were just in from the South, flocked around us in- 
quiring for their absent ones, fathers, brothers, 
lovers and sons, some of whom had already been 
killed, no doubt; there having been hundreds of 
men killed in the past few days. 

John and I of course laughed in our boots to 
think that we turned back, instead of eoine on to 
the band of blood-thirsty devils that we had started 
to go to. 

The first thing after putting our horses up at the 
livery stable, we went to Wright & Beverly's store 
and deposited our "wealth." John had a draft for 
one hundred and fourteen dollars, while I had about 
three hundred and fifty dollars. We then shed our 



172 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

old clothes and crawled into a bran new rig out and 
out. Erskine Clement, one of Mr. Deal's partners, 
was in town waiting to ship the herd which should 
have been there by that time. But he hadn't heard 
a word from it, since getting Moore's letter — which, 
by the way, had to go around through Las Vegas, 
New Mexico, and down through the southern part 
of Colorado — stating about what time it would 
arrive in Dodge. He was terribly worried when I 
informed him that John and I had neither seen nor 
heard anything of the outfit since it left the ranch. 

That night about ten o'clock John, who had struck 
a lot of his old chums, came and borrowed twenty- 
five dollars from me, having already spent his one 
hundred and fourteen dollars that he had when he 
struck town. 

I went to bed early that night, as I had promised 
to go with Clement early next morning to make a 
search for the missing herd. 

The next morning when Clement and I were fix- 
ing to strike out, John came to me, looking bad 
after his all night rampage, to get his horse and 
saddle out of "soak." I done so, which cost me 
thirty-five dollars, and never seen the poor boy 
afterwards. Shortly after that he went to Ft. Sum- 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 173 

ner and was killed by one of "Billy the Kid's" 
men, a fellow by the name of Barney Mason. Thus 
ended the life of a good man who, like scores of 
others, let the greatest curse ever known to man- 
kind, whisky, get the upper hand of him. 

Clement and I pulled south, our ponies loaded 
down with ammunition so in case the Indians got us 
corralled we could stand them off a few days, at 
least. We were well armed, both having a good 
Winchester and a couple of colts' pistols apiece. 

We found the outfit coming down Crooked Creek; 
they having left the main trail, or road, on the Cim- 
eron, and came over a much longer route, to avoid 
driving over a dry stretch of country, forty miles 
between water. Hence John and I missing them. 
No doubt but that it was a lucky move in them tak- 
ing that route, for, on the other, they would have 
just about come in contact with the three or four 
hundred Cheyenne reds, whose bloody deeds are 
still remembered in that country. 

On arriving in town with the herd we split it in 
two, making four hundred head in each bunch, and 
put one half on the cars to be shipped to Chicago. 
I accompanied the hrst lot, while Clement remained 
to come on with the next. 



I 74 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

In Burlington, Iowa, I met Mr. Beals. We lay 
there all day feeding and watering the cattle. 

On arrivino; in Chicaofo, I went ri^ht to the Pal- 
mcr house, but after paying one dollar for dinner I 
concluded its price too high for a common clod- 
hopper like myself. So I moved to the Ervin 
House, close to the Washington Street tunnel, a 
two dollar a day house. 

That night I turned myself loose taking in the 
town, or at least a little corner of it. I squandered 
about fifteen dollars that night on boot-blacks alone. 
Every one of the little imps I met struck me for a 
dime, or something to eat. They knew, at a glance, 
from the cut of my jib, that they had struck a bo- 
nanza. They continued to "work" me too, during 
my whole stay in the city. At one time, while 
walking with Mr. Beals and another gentleman, a 
crowd of them who- had spied me from across the 
street, yelled "Yonder goes our Texas Ranger! 
Lets tackle him for some stuff !" 

About the third day I went broke, and from that 
time on I had to borrow from Mr. Beals. I left 
there about a hundred dollars in his debt. 

After spending six days in the city I left for 
Dodge City, Kansas, in company with Mr. Beals 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. I 75 

and Erskine Clement, who, instead of stopping at 
Dodge, continued on to Grenada, Colorado, where 
the "Beals Cattle Co." still held their headquarters. 

Arriving in Dodge City, I found Whiskey-peet, 
whom I had left in Anderson's stable, all O. K., and 
mounting him I struck out all alone for the."L. X." 
ranch, two hundred and twenty-five miles. 

Arriving at the ranch I found the noted "Billy 
the Kid" and his gang there. Among his daring 
followers were the afterwards noted Tom O'Phalliard, 
and Henry Brown, leader of the Medicine Lodge 
Bank tragedy which happened in 1884, who was 
shot in trying to escape, while his three companions 
were hung. "The Kid" was there trying to dis- 
pose of a herd of ponies he had stolen from the 
"Seven River warriors" in Lincoln County, New 
.Mexico — his bitter enemies whom he had fought so 
hard against, that past summer, in what is known 
as the "bloody Lincoln County war of '78." During 
his stay at the ranch and around Tascosa, I became 
intimately acquainted with him and his jovial crowd, 
I mention these facts because I intend to give you 
a brief sketch of Billy's doings, in the closing pages 
of this book. 



Chapter XIX. 

A LONELY RIDE OF ELEVEN HUNDRED 

MILES. 

After laying around the ranch a couple of weeks, 
. Mr. Moore put me in charge of a scouting 
outfit and sent me out on the South Plains to drift 
about all winter, watchino- for cattle thieves, etc. ; also 
to turn back any cattle that might slip by the "sign 
riders" and drift across the Plains. 

During that winter we, that is my crowd, went 
to church several times. A little Colony of Chris- 
tians headed by the Rev. Cahart, had settled on the 
head of Salt Fork, a tributary of Red river, and 
built a church house in which the little crowd, num- 
bering less than fifty souls would congregate every 
Sunday and pray. 

That same little church house now ornaments the 
thriving little city of Clarendon, County seat of 
Donley County. The old inhabitants point to it 
with pride when telling of how it once stood soli- 
tary and alone out on the great buffalo range two 
hundred miles from nowhere. 



A TEXAS COW BOY. I 77 

The Colony had come from IlHnois and drifted 
away out there beyond the outskirts of civiHzation to 
get loose from that demon, whisky. And early 
that coming spring a lot of ruffians started a saloon 
in their midst. A meeting was called in the little 
church house and resolutions passed to drive them 
out, if in no other way, .with powder and lead. They 
pulled their freight and I am proud to state that I 
had a hand in making them pull it; for the simple 
reason that they had no business encroaching upon 
those good people's rights. 

When spring opened Mr. Moore called me in 
from the Plains and put me in charge of a rounding- 
up outfit, which consisted of twelve riders and a 
cook. 

To begin rounding-up, we went over to Canyon 
Paladuro, where Chas. Goodnight had a ranch, and 
where a great many of the river cattle had drifted 
during the winter. There was about a hundred 
men and seven or eight wagons in the outfit that 
went over. We stopped over Sunday in the little 
Christian Colony and went to church. The Rev. 
Cahart preached about the wild and woolly Cow 
Boy of the west; how the eastern people had him 
pictured off as a kind of animal with horns, etc. 



178 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

While to him, looking down from his dry goods 
box pulpit into the manly faces of nearly a hundred 
of them, they looked just like human beings, minus 
the standing collar. 

About the first of July, Moore sent me to Nick- 
erson, Kansas, with a herd of eight hundred shipping 
steers. My outfit consisted of five men, a chuck 
wagon, etc. Our route lay over a wild strip of 
country where there was no trails nor scarcely any 
ranches — that is, until reachinor the southern line of 
Kansas. 

We arrived at Nickerson after being on the road 
two months. "Deacon" Bates, Mr. Beals partner, 
was there waiting for us. He had come through 
with several herds that had left the ranch a month 
ahead of us. He was still holding some of the 
poorest ones, south of town, where he had a camp 
established. 

After loading my wagon with a fresh supply of 
grub, Mr. Bates, or the "Deacon" as he was more 
commonly called, sent me back over the trail he 
and his outfits had come, to gather lost steers — 
some they had lost coming through. 

I was oone about a month and came back with 
eighteen head. We had a soft trip of it, as most 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 1/9 

of our hard work was such as buying butter, eggs, 
etc., from the scattering grangers along the Kansas 
border. We never missed a meal on the trip, and 
always had the best the country afforded, regardless 
of cost. Deacon Bates was always bragging on 
some of his bosses, how cheap they could live, etc. 
I just thought I would try him this time, being in a 
country where luxuries were plentiful, and see if he 
wouldn't blow on me as being a person with good 
horse sense. An animal of course, as we all know, 
will eat the choicest grub he can get; and why not 
man, when he is credited with having more sense 
than the horse, one of the most intellectual animals 
that exists? 

On our return to Nickerson, I concluded to quit 
and spend the winter with mother, whom I received 
letters from every now and then begging me to 
come home. As I wasn't certain of coming back, 
I thought it best to go overland and take Whisky- 
peet along, for I couldn't even bear the tliougJit of 
parting with him; and to hire a car to take him 
around by rail would be too costly. 

I got all ready to start and then went to Deacon 
Bates for a settlement. He took my account book 
and, after looking it over, said: "Why, Dum it to 



t8o a TEXAS COW BOY, 

li — 1, I can't pay no such bills as those! Why, 
Dum-it all, old Jay Gould would groan under the 
weiofht of these bills!" He then went on to read 
some of the items aloud. They ran as follows: 
Cod-fish $io; eggs $40; butter I70; milk $5; ba- 
con $150; flour $200; canned fruits $400; sundries 
$600, etc., etc. Suffice it to say, the old gent told me 
in plain Yankee English that I would have to go 
to Chicago and settle with Mr. Beals. I hated the 
idea of going to Chicago, for I knew my failings — 
I was afraid I wouldn't have money enough left 
when I got back to pay my expenses home. 

That same evening a letter came from Mr. Beals 
stating that he had just received a letter from Moore, 
at the ranch, in which he informed him that there 
were two more herds on the trail for Nickerson, 
and, as it was getting so near winter, for Joe 
Hargraves, better known as "Jinglebob Joe," and I 
to go and turn them to Dodge City, the nearest 
shipping point. 

After putting Whisky-peet and my "Missouri" 
mare, one I had bought to use as a pack-horse going 
home, in care of an old granger to be fed and taken 
good care of until my return, Joe and I struck out 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 



I8l 



with only one horse apiece— just the ones .ve were 

riding. 

On our arrival in Dodge I pulled out for Chicago, 
to get a settlement, with the first train load we 
shipped. I took my saddle, bridle, spurs, etc. 
along and left them in Atchison, Mo., the first point 
we stopped to feed at, until my return. 

Arriving in Chicago, I told Mr. Beals that I was 
going home to spend the winter, and therefore 
wanted to setde up. 

He set 'em up to a fine Havana and then pro- 
ceeded. Every time he came to one of those big 
bills, which caused the Deacon's eyes to bulge 
out, he would grunt and crack about a forty-cent 
smile, but never kicked. 

When he had finished there was a few hundred 
dollars to my credit. He then asked me if I could 
think of anything else that I had forgotten to charge 
the "company" with? Of course I couldn't, be- 
cause I didn't have time; his question was put to 
me too sudden. If I could have had a few hours 
to myself, to figure the thing up just right, I think 
I could have satisfied the old Gent. 

I remained in the city three days taking in the 
sights and feeding the hungry litde boot blacks. 



1 82 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

When leaving, Mr. Beals informed me that he was 
going to buy a lot of southern Texas cattle, to put 
on his Panhandle ranch, the coming spring, and if 
I wanted a job, to hold myself in readiness to boss 
one of the herds up the trail for him. Of course 
that just suited me, providing I couldn't make up 
my mind to remain at home. 

Landing in Nickerson I hired a horse and went 
out tothe old granger's ranch where I had left my 
two ponies. They were both fat and feeling good. 

Before starting out on my little journey of only 
eleven hundred miles, I bought a pack-saddle and 
cooking outfit — that is, just a frying pan, small coffee 
pot, etc. I used the mare for a pack animal and 
rode Whisky-peet. I had just six dollars left when 
I rode out of Nickerson. 

I went throuoh Fort Reno and Fort Sill, Indian 
territory and crossed Red river into Texas on the 
old military road, opposite Henrietta. 

When within ten miles of Denton, Texas, on 
Pecan creek, Whisky-peet became lame — so much 
so that he could scarcely walk. I was stopping 
over night with a Mr. Cobb, and next morning I 
first noticed his lameness. 



BY ClIAS. A. SIRINGO. 1 83 

I lacked about twenty-five cents of having enough 
to pay Mr. Cobb for my night's lodging that morn- 
ino-. I had sold my watch for five dollars a short 
while before and now that was spent. 

Whisky-peet being too lame to travel. I left him 
with Mr. Cobb while I rode into Denton to try and 
make a raise of some money. 

I tried to swap my mare off for a smaller animal 
and eet some boot, but every one seemed to think 
that she had been stolen; I being so anxious to 
swap. 

I rode back to Mr. Cobb's that night in the same 
fix, financially, as wdien I left that morning. 

The next day I made a raise of some money. 
Mr. Cobb and I made a saddle swap, he giving 
me twenty dollars to boot. He and I also swapped 
bridles, I getting four dollars and a half to boot. 
One of his litde boys then gave me his saddle and 
one dollar and a half for my pack-saddle, which 
had cost me ten dollars in Nickerson. I then had 
lots of money. 

Whisky-peet soon got over his lameness, having 
just stuck a litde snag into the frog of his foot, 
which I succeeded in fmding and pulling out before 



I 84 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

it had time to do serious damage, and I started on 
my journey again. 

On arriving in Denton that time, a negro struck 
me for a horse swap right away. I got a three 
year old pony and six dollars in money for my mare; 
the pony suited just as well for a pack animal as 
the mare. 

The next day after leaving Denton, I stopped in 
a ne^ro settlement and won a fifty-dollar horse, 
running Whisky-peet against a sleepy looking grey. 
I had up twenty dollars in money and my Win- 
chester, a fine silver mounted o-un. I won the race 
by at least ten open feet, but the negroes tried to 
swindle me out of it. 

While riding along that evening three negroes 
rode up and claimed the horse I had won. They 
claimed that the parties who bet him off had no 
right to him, as they just had borrowed him from 
one of them to ride to the Settlement that morning. 
I finally let them have him for twenty dollars. 

I went through the following towns after leaving 
Denton: Ft. Worth, Clenborn, Hillsborough, Waco, 
Herrene, Bryant, Brenham and Columbus; besides 
scores of smaller places. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. I 85 

I rode up to mother's little shanty on Cashe's 
creek after being on the road just a month and 
twelve days. 

To say that mother was glad to see me would 
only half express it. She bounced me the first 
thing about not coming back the next fall after 
leaving as I had promised. I had been gone nearly 
four years. 



tj^J> 



Chapter XX. 

ANOTHER START UP THE CHISHOLM 
TRAIL. 

I hadn't been at home but a few days when I came 
very near getting killed by a falling house. 

Mother had become tired of the neighborhood 
she lived in and wanted me to move her and her 
shanty down the creek about a mile, to Mr. Cor- 
nelius's. So hiring a yoke of oxen — although a 
pair of goats would have answered the purpose — I 
hauled her household goods down to the spot se- 
lected. I then went to work tearing the shanty 
down. 

In building it I had set eight pine posts two feet 
in the eround, and then nailed the sidino-s, etc., to 
them. There was only one room and it was eight 
feet wide and fourteen long. The roof had been 
made of heavy pine boards. After tearing both 
ends out, I climbed onto the roof to undo that. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 1 87 

I was a-straddle of the sharp roof, about midway, 
axe in one hand and a large chisel in the other, 
when all at once the sides began spreading out at 
the top. Of course I began sinking slowly but 
surely, until everything went down with a crash. 
The pine posts had become rotten from the top of 
the ground down; and just as soon as the roof and 
I had struck bottom the sides flopped over onto us. 

A neighbor's little boy by the name of Benny 
Williams, had been monkeying around watching me 
work, and unluckily he was inside of the shanty 
when the collapse came. 

I was sensible, but unable to move, there being so 
much weight on me. 

Finally little Benny who was one thickness of 
boards under me woke up and began squalling like 
a six months old calf being put through the process 
of brandinof. 

After squalling himself hoarse he began to moan 
most pitiously. That was too much for me. I 
could stand his bleating but his moaning for help 
put new life into my lazy muscles, causing me to 
exert every nerve in my body, so as to get out and 
render the poor boy assistance. I had, before the 



I 88 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

boy's cries disturbed me, made up my mind to lie 
still and wait for something to turn up. 

In exerting myself I found that I could move my 
body down towards my feet, an inch at a time. The 
weight was all on my left shoulder. But it soon 
came in contact with something else, which relieved 
my bruised shoulder of most of the weight. 

I got out finally after a long and painful struggle; 
and securing help from the Morris ranch, fished 
Benny out. He had one leg broken below the 
knee, besides other bruises. I was slightly disfig- 
ured, but still in the ring. 

I put in the winter visiting friends, hunting, etc. 
I had sold my cattle — the mavricks branded nearly 
four years before — to Mr. Geo. Hamilton, at the 
market price, from five to ten dollars a head, ac- 
cording to quality, to be paid for when he got his 
own brand put on to them. Every now and then 
he would brand a few, and with the money received 
for them I would buy grub and keep up my dignity. 

About the first of March I received a letter from 
Mr. Rosencrans, one of D. T. Beals' partners, stat- 
ing that Mr. Beals had bought his cattle in middle 
Texas instead of southern as he had expected, and 
as he had told me in Chicago. "But," continued the 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 1 89 

letter, "we have bought a herd from Charles Word 
of Goliad, on the San Antonia River, to be delivered 
at our Panhandle ranch and have secured you the 
job of bossing it. Now should you wish to come 
back and work for us, go out and report to Mr. 
Word at once." 

The next day I kissed mother good-bye, gave 
Whisky-peet a hug, patted Chief — a large white 
dog that I had picked up in the Indian Territory on 
my way through — a few farewell pats on the head, 
mounted "Gotch" — a pony I had swapped my star- 
spangled Winchester for — and struck out for Goliad, 
ninety miles west. Leaving Whisky-peet behind 
was almost as severe on me as having sixteen jaw- 
teeth pulled. I left- him, in Horace Yeamans' care, 
so that I could come back by rail the coming fall. I 
failed to come back though that fall as I expected, 
therefore never got to see the faithful animal again; 
h£ died the following spring. 

A three days' ride brought me to Goliad, the place 
where Fannin and his brave followers met their sad 
fate during the Mexican war. It was dark when I 
arrived there. After putting up my horse, I learned 
from the old gent Mr. Word, who was a saddler, 
and whom I found at work in his shop, that his son 



190 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Charlie was out at Beevllle, gathering a bunch of 
cattle. 

Next morning I struck out for Beeville, thirty 
miles west, arriving there about four o'clock in the 
afternoon. 

About sun-down I found Charles Word, and his 
crowd of muddy cow-punchers, five miles west of 
town. They were almost up to their ears in mud, 
(it having been raining all day,) trying to finish "road- 
branding" that lot of steers before dark. The cor- 
ral having no "chute" the boys had to rope and 
wrestle with the wild brutes until the hot iron could 
be applied to their wet and muddy sides. 

When I rode up to the corral, Charlie came out, 
and I introduced myself. He shook my hand with 
a look of astonishment on his brow, as much as to 

say, I'll be if Beals mustn't be crazy, sending 

this smooth-faced kid here to take charge of a herd 
for me! He finally after talking awhile told me that 
I would have to work under Mr. Stephens, until we 
got ready to put up the Beals herd — or at least the 
one I was to accompany. He also told me to keep 
the boys from knowing that I was going to boss the 
next herd, as several of them were fishing for the 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 1 91 

job, and might become stubborn should they know 
the truth. 

I went on "night-guard" after supper and it con- 
tinued to rain all night, so that I failed to get any 
sleep; but then I didn't mind it, as I was well 
rested. 

The next day after going to work, was when I 
caught fits though, working in a muddy pen all day. 
When night came I didn't feel as much like going 
on guard as I did the night before. A laughable 
circumstance happened that morning after going 
into the branding-pen. 

As the pen had no "chute" we had to rope and 
tie down, while applyingthe brand. The men work- 
ing in pairs, one, which ever happened to get a good 
chance, to catch the animal by both fore feet as he 
run by which would "bump" him, that is, capsize 
him. The other fellow would then be ready to 
jump aboard and hold him until securely fastened. 
There being only seven of us to do the roping that 
morning, it of course left one man without a "pard," 
and that one was me. Each one you see is always 
anxious to get a good roper for a "pard," as then 
everything works smoothly. Mr. Word told me to 



192 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

sit on the fence and rest until Ike Word, an old ne- 
gro who used to belong to the Word family, and who 
was the best roper in the crowd, returned from town 
where he had been sent with a message. 

It wasn't long till old Ike galloped up, wearing a 
broad grin. He was very anxious to get in the pen 
and show "dem fellers de art of cotching um by 
boaf front feet." But when his boss told him he 
would have to take me for a "pard" his broad grin 
vanished. Calling Mr. Word to one side he told 
him that he didn't want that yankee for a "pard," 
as he would have to do all the work, etc. He was 
told to try me one round and if I didn't suit he 
could take some one else. Shortly afterwards while 
passing Mr. Word old Ike whispered and said: 
"Dogon me if dat yankee don't surprise de natives!" 
When night came, and while I was on herd, old Ike 
sat around the camp fire wondering to the other 
boys "whar dat yankee learned to rope so well." 
You see Mr. Word had told the boys that I was 
from the Panhandle, and old Ike thought the Pan- 
handle was way up in Yankeedom somewhere, 
hence he thinking I was a yankee. A few days 
after that though, I satisfied old Ike that I was a 
thoroughbred. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 1 93 

Mr. Word bought a bunch of ponies, new arrivals 
from Mexico, and amonpf them was a laro-e iron- 
grey, which the mexicans had pointed out as being 
"Muncho Deablo." None of the boys, not even old 
Ike, cared to tackle him. So one morning I caught 
and saddled him. He fought like a tiger while being 
saddled; and after getting it securely fastened he 
threw it off and stamped it into a hundred pieces, 
with his front feet, which caused me to have to buy 
a new one next day. I then borrowed Mr. Stephens' 
saddle, and after getting securely seated in it, raised 
the blinds and gave him the full benefit of spurs and 
quirt. After pitching about half a mile, me, saddle 
and all went up in the air, the girths having broken. 
But having the "hackimore" rope fastened to my 
belt I held to him until help arrived. I then bor- 
rowed another saddle, and this time stayed with 
him. From that on, old Ike recognized me as a 
genuine cow-puncher. 

We finally got that herd, of thirty-seven hundred 
steers, ready for the trail ; but the very night after 
getting them counted and ready to turn over to Mr. 
Stephens the next morning, they stampeded, half of 
them getting away and mixing up with thousands of 
other cattle. 



194 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

Mr. Stephens thought he would try a new scheme 
that trip up the trail, so he bought a lot of new bulls- 
eye lanterns to be used around the herd on dark, 
stormy nights, so that each man could tell just where 
the other was stationed by the reflection of his 
light. 

This night in question being very dark and stormy, 
Stephens thought he would christen his new lamps. 
He gave me one, although I protested against such 
nonsense. 

About ten o'clock some one suddenly flashed his 
bulls-eye towards the herd, and off they went, as 
though shot out of a gun. 

In running my horse at full speed in trying to get 
tothelead, or in front of them, me, horse, bulls-eye 
and all went over an old rail fence — where there 
had once been a ranch — in a pile. I put the entire 
blame onto the lamp, the light of which had blinded 
my horse so that he didn't see the fence. 

I wasn't long in picking myself up and mounting 
my horse who was standing close by, still trembling 
from the shock he received. I left the lamp where 
it lay, swearing vengeance against the use of them, 
around cattle, and clashed off after the flying herd. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 195 

When daylight came I and a fellow by the name 
of Glass, found ourselves with about half of the 
herd, at least ten miles from camp. The rest of the 
herd was scattered all over the country, badly mixed 
up with other catde. It took us several days to get 
the lost ones gathered, and the herd in shape again. 

After bidding Stephens and the boys who were 
to accompany him, adieu, to meet again on Red 
River where he was to wait for us, we pulled for 
Goliad to rig up a new outfit, horses, wagon, etc. 

The horses. Word bought out of a mexican herd 
which had just arrived from Old Mexico. He gave 
eighteen dollars a head for the choice, out of sev- 
eral hundred head. 

Being all ready to start for Kimble County, two 
hundred miles northwest, where the herd was to be 
gathered, Mr. Word turned the outfit over to me, 
while he went around by stage. 



Chapter XXI. 

A TRIP WHICH TERMINATED IN THE 
CAPTURE OF "BILLY THE KID." 

We went through San Antonio and lay there 
long- enough to have all of our horses shod, 
as we were going into a mountainous country where 
they couldn't stand it without shoes. While there 
I visited the Almo building where poor Davy 
Crocket and his brave companions bit the dust. 

We arrived at our destination, Joe Taylor's ranch, 
on Paint creek a small tributary to the Llano, at 
last; and it was one of the roughest, rockiest, God- 
forsaken countries I ever put foot on. 

We finally, after three weeks hard work, got the 
herd of twenty-five hundred head started towards 
the north star. We were awful glad to get out of 
there too, for our horses were all nearly peetered out, 
and the men on the war-path, from having to work 
twenty-six hours a day. 

At Red river we overtook Stephens and changed 
herds with him, his being the ones to go to Deal's 



A TEXAS COW BOY. 197 

ranch, while the others were for the Wyoming 
market. 

After parting with Stephens again we turned in 
a northwesterly direction and arrived at the "L. X." 
ranch on the first day of July. 

Moore sent me right out on the Plains to hold the 
herd I came up with, until fall. That just suited me 
as I needed a rest. 

After turning the herd loose on the range about 
the first of September, I was put in charge of a 
branding outfit. Our work then was drifting over 
the ranee branding calves. 

Late in the fall when all the branding was done, 
Moore put me in charge of a scouting outfit and 
sent me out on the Plains to drift around, the same 
as previous winters. 

I hadn't been there long, though, when he sent 
word for me to turn my outfit over to James 
McClaughety and come in to the ranch ; and to bring 
three of my picked men along. 

On arriving at the ranch I found that he wanted 
me to take an outfit and go to New Mexico after a 
lot of cattle that "Billy the Kid" had stolen and run 
over there. 



198 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

The cattlemen along the Canadian river had hired a 
fellow by the name of Frank Stuart to keep a lookout 
for stolen cattle in New Mexico; and along in the 
summer he came to the Panhandle and notified the 
different cattlemen who had him employed that 
"Billy the Kid" and his gang were making a regular 
business of stealing Panhandle cattle and selling 
them to an old fellow named Pat Cohglin who had 
a large ranch on Three rivers, close to Ft. Stanton. 

The outfits then made up a crowd between them, 
and sent with Stuart, or-iving- him orders to q-q rio-ht 
to the Cohglin ranch and take all the cattle found 
there, in their brands. 

But Mr. Stuart failed to go nearer than forty 
miles from where the cattle were reported to be. 
He claimed that Cohglin, who had a blood-thirsty 
crowd around him, sent him word that if he got the 
cattle he would have to take some hot lead with 
them, or something to that effect. So Stuart came 
back, claiming he didn't have men enough, 

This made Moore mad, so he concluded to rig up 
an outfit of his own and send them over after the 
cattle, hence he sending out after me. 

My outfit, after getting it rigged up, consisted of 
a chuck wagon with four good mules to pull it, a 



BY CIIAS. A. SIRINGO. 1 99 

cook and five picked men, named as follows: James 
East, Lee Hall, Lon Chambers, Cal Pope and last 
but not by any means least "Big-foot Wallace." 
They all, except me, had one extra good horse 
apiece; I had two. Moore thought it best not to 
have many horses to feed, as corn would be scarce 
and high. He thought it best to buy more if we 
needed them. 

On starting, Moore gave me these orders: "Stay 
over there until you get those cattle or bust the 
"L. X." company. I will keep you supplied in 
money just as long as they have got a nickel left, 
that I can get hold of. And when you get the 
cattle if you think you can succeed in capturing 
"Billy the Kid" do so. You can hire all the men 
you need; but don't undertake his capture until you 
have first secured the cattle." 

At Tascosa we met Stuart who had succeeded in 
raising a little crowd to join us. Mr. McCarty, 
boss of the "L. I. T." ranch had furnished five men, 
a cook and chuck wagon; and Torry, whose ranch 
was further up the river, a wagon and two men, 
while a man by the name of Johnson furnished a 
man and wagon. The "L. I. T." outfit was in charge 
of a fellow by the name of "Bob" Roberson, whose 



200 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

orders were to get the stolen cattle before trying to 
capture the Kid, but in the meantime, to be gov- 
erned by Stuart's orders. This placed "Bob" in bad 
shape, as you will see later. 

Stuart, after we all got strung out, took the "buck- 
board" on the mail line, and went on ahead to Las 
Vegas to put in a week or so with his solid girl. 

On arriving at San Lorenzo, New Mexico, I 
mounted a buck-board and struck out ahead, to Las 
Vegas, to buy a lot of corn, grub, ammunition, etc., 
to be delivered at Anton Chico, twenty-five miles 
south of "Vegas," by the time the crowd got there, 
so as not to cause any delay. "Bob" Roberson also 
gave me money to buy a lot of stuff for his outfit. 

Arriving in Vegas, during a severe snow storm, 
I found there wasn't fifty bushels of corn in town, 
the snow storm having delayed the freight trains. 
One merchant had just got a bill of several car loads 
which he expected to arrive any minute. So I con- 
cluded I would wait — and help Stuart hold the town 
down. 

I wrote a letter to Anton Chico, telling the boys 
to lay there and take it easy, as I might be detained 
several days waiting for corn. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 20I 



Every morning I would go to the grain merchant, 
and receive this reply: "Am looking for it every 
minute; t'will certainly be here by night." 

Not being acquainted in town, time passed off 
very slowly, so I finally got to "bucking" at my old 
favorite game — monte. I won for a while, but finally 
my luck took a turn and I lost nearly every dollar 
I had in my possession, most of which belonged to 
my employers. The one hundred dollars that "Bob" 
Roberson gave to buy stuff for his outfit, also went. 

While standing over the exciting game, after my 
pile had dwindled down to an even seventy dollars, 
I put just half of it. thirty-five dollars, on the 
Queen, or "horse," as it is called, being the picture 
of a woman on horseback, and made a vow, if I 
lost that bet that I never would as long as I lived, 
"buck" at monte again. I lost, and my vow has 
been sacredly kept. 

The corn finally arrived, but having no money, 
I had to run my face by giving an order on the 
"L. X." company, payable on demand. The other 
stuff, ammunition, etc., also things "Bob" had sent 
for, I had to buy in the same manner. Of course 
I hated to give orders so soon after leaving the 
ranch with a pocketfuU of money, but then that 



202 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

was the best I could do under existing circum- 
stances. 

After getting the goods started for Anton Chico, 
Stuart and I hired a rig and followed. 

Arriving in "Chico" we found Barney Mason, (an 
ex-chum of the "Kid's," but now a deputy sheriff 
under Pat Garrett) there, with a message from Gar- 
rett telling Stuart to meet him in Vegas at a certain 
date, on important business. So Stuart struck right 
back to Vegas, accompanied by Mason, as the date 
fixed was only a few days off. 

I found the boys all well and having a fat time. 
The only thing that bothered me they had run in 
debt head over heels on the strength of me having 
lots of money. The merchants expected their pay 
according to contract, immediately after my arrival. 
I had to satisfy them with orders on the "L. X." 
firm. 

The boys had lots of news to relate, things that 
had happened after I left: One of "Bob's" men 
had had a shooting scrape with some mexicans; and 
"Billy the Kid" and his crowd had been in town, 
they having come in afoot, and went out well 
mounted. He and his five men having hoofed it 



BY CHAS. A. SIKINGO. 203 

through deep snow from the Greathouse ranch, over 
a hundred miles southwest of there. 

After getting everything in shape we pulled out 
for White Oaks, one hundred and fifty miles south- 
west. 

The second night out we camped at the Lewelling 
Wells, where bright and early next morning Stuart 
overtook us; accompanied by Pat Garrett and Bar- 
ney Mason. They came with a scheme all cut and 
dried, by which they could get the big reward 
offered for the "Kid." Garrett knew the Kid and 
his few remaining followers had been to Chico and 
left for Fort Sumner a few days before; and that 
they were wore out from having been chased all 
over the country by a gang of ninety men from 
White Oaks and vicinity. Now was his time to 
strike, if he could just get Stuart to go in cahoots 
with him. That was soon accomplished; a promise 
of half of the reward, I suppose, done the work. 
Hence he sending for Stuart to come and see him 
in "Vegas" on important business. 

After eating breakfast Stuart broke the ice by 
telling a lie. He knew our orders were strictly to 
get the cattle first, and then if we could assist in 
the capture of the "Kid" to do so. Therefore he 



204 A TEXAS COW BCY, 

branched out thus: "'Well boys, we have got a job 
on our hands: 'Kid' is on his way to Old Mexico 
with a bunch of Panhandle cattle; and we want 
every man in the outfit, except just enough to accom- 
pany the wagons to White Oaks, to go with Garrett 
and I to overtake them." 

"How can that be," someone asked "when Kid 
and his men just left Anton Chico a few days ago?" 

"Don't know," was the quick answer, unless some 
of his outfit had the cattle under herd somewhere 
down the river waiting for him. If you doubt my 
word about it, just ask Mr. Garrett, there. 

Of course we all did doubt his word, and were 
well satisfied that it was a put up job, to gain the 
reward. 

"Bob" Roberson and I went to one side and 
talked the matter over, while Stuart and his little 
party remained at camp wondering whether their 
little scheme would have strength to hold out, on 
its weak legs or not. 

"Bob" was in favor, after we had talked the thing 
over, of going right back and telling Stuart in plain 
English that he lied. But I wouldn't agree to that 
for fear it might accidently be true. I thought it 
strange that Garrett, who had the reputation of 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 205 

being a model of a man, would sit by with his 
mouth shut and listen to such a falsehood. Of course 
Garrett couldn't be blamed very much for he, being 
Sheriff, was interested in the "Kid's" capture, no 
matter what became of the cattle we had come after. 

"Bob" and I finally concluded, for fear the state- 
ment might be true, to let them have a few men, 
but not enough to completely cripple us so that we 
couldn't eo on after the cattle should we think it 
best, after getting to White Oaks. 

I let them take three out of my crowd: "Jim" 
East, "Lon" Chambers and "Lee" Hall. While 
"Bob" gave up two, "Tom" Emory and Louis Boz- 
man. Stuart wasn't satisfied, he wanted more. But 
not being successful in getting his whole wants 
supplied, they all rode off down the Pecos valley. 

Shortly after they left we pulled out on the White 
Oaks road. That night it began to snow, and kept 
it up for several days until the whole ground was 
covered to the depth of from two to three feet; so 
that it was slow work getting our wagons along 
through it. 

A few days afterwards we came to the Great- 
house ranch, or at least to the hot ashes where it 
once stood, where "Kid" and six of his daring fol- 



206 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

lowers were surrounded by ninety men one whole 
night and day. It was as follows: 

A squad of men left White Oaks to hunt the 
"Kid" who was lurking in the neighborhood. They 
suddenly came upon him and Bill Willson cooking 
their breakfasts, one morning. 

On discovering their enemies they both, after 
firing a shot apiece, sped through the mountains 
like deer, leaving their horses, saddles, coats and 
breakfast behind. 

One of the shots fired at the White Oaks party 
took effect in the brain of a good horse that a young 
man by the name of Johnny Hudgens was riding, 
while the other, went through a hat, on the head of 
a young man. 

After following the trail through the deep snow 
awhile, and after satisfying themselves that the two 
young outlaws couldn't hide their tracks, the party 
struck back to White Oaks after something to eat, 
and more men. 

When they returned, that same evening, there 
was ninety men in the crowd. They got on the 
trail and followed it, until shortly after dark, when 
it brought them to within a few hundred yards of 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 20/ 

the Greathouse ranch, on the "Vegas" and White 
Oaks road. 

To satisfy themselves that the game was bagged, 
they circled around the ranch to see that no trails 
were leading out from it. 

They then stationed themselves in a circle around 
the house and, dismounting, began to make breast- 
works out of pine logs — the ranch being in the 
midst of a large pine grove. 

When day-light came Greathouse sent a negro, 
who was stopping with him, out after the horses 
which had been hobbled the night before. 

Mr. "Nig" hadn't gone but a few hundred yards 
when he was captured by the White Oaks boys. 

After learning from him that the "Kid" and five 
of his men were in the house they sent him back 
with a note to the "Kid," telling him if he and his 
party would come out with their hands up they 
would be treated as prisoners of war; if not they 
would have to stand the consequences, etc. 

In a few minutes the negro returned with a note 
from the "Kid," stating: "You fellers go to h — 1!" 
or something to that effect. 

A consultation was then held, and finally decided 
to give the boys one more chance for their lives. 



2o8 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

before storming the house. So they sent Mr. Coon 
back with another note stating, that that would be 
their last chance, etc. 

In a short while a new messenger came forward. 
It was "Jim" Greathouse, proprietor of the ranch. 
He stated that the "Kid" desired to have a talk with 
their leader. On asking him what assurance he 
could eive that their leader wouldn't be harmed, he 
replied, "myself." He told them that they could 
hold him a prisoner, and if anything happened to 
Carlyle, he was willing to stand the consequences. 

So Mr. "Jim " Carlyle, he being the leader, 
marched forward — never more to return — to have 
a talk with the "Kid". 

Arriving in the house where there was also a 
saloon, kept there to accommodate the thirsty trav- 
eler, he was made to go up to the bar and drink 
"health to Billy the Kid." This of course went 
against the grain with "Jim," but then what else 
could he do now, being at their mercy? 

Finally the Kid spied one of the gloves he had 
left behind in his retreat the day before, sticking 
out of "Jim's" coat pocket. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 209 

This revived the hardships he and Billy Willson 
were compelled to endure, nearly all day the day 
before, traveling- through snow up to their knees. 
So pulling the glove out of "Jim's" pocket and hold- 
ing it up at arms length, he asked: "Jim, was you \ 
with that mob yesterday who caused me such a 
tramp through the snow?" 

"Yes," was the answer. 

"Well then, come up and take your last drink on 
this earth, for I am going to blow your light out." 

"Jim" of course didn't relish the half pint of rot- 
gut that he was forced to drink at the point of a 
colts "45." 

After drinking a full glass himself the "Kid" 
threw his pistol down in "Jim's" face, full cocked, 
telling him at the same time to say his prayers while 
he slowly counted "three." 

The "one, two, three!" was uttered, and then a 
pistol shot rang out upon the still air, re-echoing 
from the mountain sides, in every direction. 

The bullet had struck its mark, a tin can hanmnp- 
on the wall a few inches above "Jim's" head. 

"Well, Jim," was the first words that broke the 
death-like silence within, "you are worth several 
dead men yet, ain't you?" Said "Kid" grabbing 



2IO A TEXAS COW BOY, 

"Jim's" trembling hand and leading him up to the 
bar, over which Billy Willson handed the fiery bug- 
juice. 

"You didn't think I would be brute enoug"h to 
shoot you in such a cowardly manner, did you, Jim?" 
continued the "Kid" setting his empty glass down 
on the counter. 

The shot from within had excited the crowd out- 
side almost to fever heat; they thinking that it meant 
their leaders' death. One fellow durino-the exciting 
moment scribbled off a note which read thus: "If 
Carlyle ain't out here in ten minutes by the watch, 
your friend Greathouse will be a corpse," and sent it 
to the "Kid" by the negro, who had returned after 
delivering the last message which brought Great- 
house out. 

The note was read in the presence of Carlyle, so 
that he heard every word it contained. 

"Kid" then answered it by stating: "Carlyle is 
safe, but we can't give him up just yet. Now re- 
member, if we hear a shot from the outside we will 
take it for granted that you have carried out your 
threats by killing Greathouse, and will have to pay 
you back by killing our prisoner," etc. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 211 

"Jim" knew the substance of the note and trem- 
bled In his boots at the thoughts of an accident shot 
being fired by his party. He was satisfied that his 
men wouldn't do as they threatened in the note 
after hearing, from the negro's own lips, that he 
was still alive. It was the accident shot that dis- 
turbed his mind. 

The negro hadn't more than got behind the breast- 
works with the note when a man, stationed behind 
another breastwork, who knew nothing of the threat 
having been made, fired a shot at the house 'just 
for fun." 

Carlyle, on hearing the shot, made a leap at the 
-only glass window in the house, taking sash and all 
with him. But before striking the ground several 
bullets from the "Kids" well aimed "45" had pierced 
his body. He crawled a few yards and then fell 
over dead, in plain view of his eighty odd compan- 
ions. 

"Kid" claimed afterwards that he was sorry for hav- 
ing had to kill "Jim." TUeir intentions were to hold 
him prisoner until daxi., when they would tie him 
down, so he couldn't give the alarm, and then make 
their escape. 



212 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

From that on, the mad crowd outside kept up a 
continued firing at the log house until dark. But 
doing no damage, as the boys had breast-works 
built of sacks of flour, boxes, bedding, etc. 

Jim Greathouse during the excitement gave his 
guards the slip and pulled for "tall timber" up in the 
mountains where it was almost impossible for a 
mounted man to follow. I have often afterwards 
heard Greathouse laugh over the matter and tell 
how he "just hit the high places," and beat Gold- 
smith Maid's fastest time, for the first half mile. 

About ten o'clock that night the White Oaker's 
began to get tired and hungry, so concluded they 
would go back to town, forty miles, fill up, get a 
fresh mount and return by daylight, without the 
"Kid" and his men knowing anything of it. They 
stole off very slyly, without making any noise, and 
when they got about a mile, put their horses down 
to their best licks. 

About midnight the little party inside roade a 
bold break for liberty. They headed north-east, 
with cocked Winchesters, determined on fighting 
their way out. But they were happily disappointed. 

A ten-mile tramp through snow brought them to 
the Spencer ranch, which was kept by a kind old 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 213 

man by the name of Spencer, who hved there all 
alone, and was trying to establish a shorter route 
from "Vegas" to the -Oaks" by turning the road by 
his place, where there was a fine spring of water, a 
luxury the Greathouse ranch lacked, they having to 
haul water a distance of several miles from up in 
the rough mountains. 

Just as day was breaking the crowd returned from 
the "Oaks," and finding their game had fled they 
set fire to the house and struck out on the newly 
made foot prints. 

Arriving at the Spencer ranch they learned, from 
the old gendeman, that the "Kid" and his litde party 
of five had been gone about two hours, and that 
they had eaten breakfast with him. 

After continuing on the trail about an hour longer, 
until it brought them to a rough strip of country where 
they would be compelled to take it afoot, they gave 
up the chase, and turned back to take their spite 
out on poor old Spencer for feeding the "Kid" and 
his crowd. 

They took the poor old harmless fellow out to a 
neighboring tree, after setting fire to his ranch, and 
put a rope around his neck; but before they had 
time to swing him up, a few of the men, who had 



214 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

been opposed from the start, interfered in the old 
man's behalf. Thus his neck was saved, and he is 
to-day a highly respected citizen in that community, 
which has since that time become a rich mining 
district. 

The "Kid" and his men made it into Anton Chico, 
where, as I stated before, they stole a good horse 
and saddle apiece, while the boys were there wait- 
ing for me to arrive from "Vegas," and pulled down 
the Reo Pecos. 



^;^^^- 



Chapter XXII. 
BILLY THE KID'S CAPTURE 

We arrived in the beautifully located town of 
White Oaks on the 23d day of December, 
(1880). The town, which consisted of 1000 inhab- 
itants, mostly American miners, was then not quite 
two years old and pretty lively for its age. It con- 
tained eight saloons; and Saturday nights when the 
boys would come in from the surrounding moun- 
tains, to spend the Sabbath, is when the little burg 
would put on city airs. 

We rented a lars^e loof house in the lower end of 
town and went to living like white folks. We had 
no money, but we struck two of the merchants who 
gave us an unlimited credit until we could make a 
raise. Our greatest expense v/as feeding the horses 
corn which cost five cents a pound and hay, two 
cents a pound. The grub we ate wasn't very ex- 
pensive as we stole all of our meat, and shared with 
our honest neighbors who thought it a great sin to 
kill other people's cattle. You see "Bob" and I still 



2l6 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

clung to the old Texas style which is, never kill one 
of your own beeves when you can get somebody 
else's. 

We had concluded not to go after the stolen cat- 
tle until the rest of the boys got there, by which 
time the deep snow would be melted, maybe, so 
that we could scour the White Mountains, where 
the cattle were reported to be, out thoroughly. 

New-Year's night we had a bushel of fun making 
the citizens think that "Billy the Kid" had taken 
the town. Billy was in the habit of "shooting the 
town up a lot" every now and then, hence, every 
time a few dozen shots were fired at an unusually late 
hour, they putting it down as being some of his 
devilment. 

We first sent one of our crowd up-town to the 
billiard hall, where most of the men generally con- 
gregated, and especially "Pinto Tom," the marshal, 
whose maneuvers we were anxious to learn, to watch 
and see what kind of an effect our shooting had on 
the people. 

At precisely twelve o'clock we got out with Win- 
chesters and six-shooters, cooks and all, and turned 
ourselves loose. About one hundred shots were 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 2\'] 

fired ia quick succession. We then went up town 
to note the effect. 

Arriving at the biUiard hall we found old "Uncle 
Jimmie," our man, standing in the door laughing fit 
to kill himself. The hall was empty, with the ex- 
ception of a few who were still hid under tables, 
chairs, etc. Most of them had gone out of the 
back door, there being a rough canyon within a few 
yards of it leading to the mountains, right at the 
marshal's heels. It was said that "Pinto Tom" 
didn't get in from the mountains for two days, and 
when he did come, he swore he had been off pros- 
pecting. 

Shortly after New- Years some of our men arrived, 
bringing the news of the "Kid's" capture, while 
the rest, Jim East and Tom Emory had accom- 
panied Garrett and Stuart to "Vegas" with the 
prisoners. 

Stuart sent a letter by one of the boys, stating 
that he. East and Emory, would be in the "Oaks" 
just as quick as they could get there, after turning 
the prisoners over to the authorities in "Vegas." 

So, knowing that we were destined to remain 
around the "Oaks" a week or two at least, we pulled 
out in the mountains and camped, so as to save ex- 



2l8 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

penses by letting our horses eat grass instead of 
hay. 

That night, after the boys arrived and after we 
had moved camp out in the timber, while seated 
around a blazing pinyon fire, Lon Chambers who 
was a splendid single-handed talker, began relating 
how they captured the "Kid," etc., which ran about 
this way, as near as I can remember: 

** After leaving you fellers we caught . It be- 
gan snowing that night, and kept it up for two or 
three days and nights. 

Arriving in Ft. Sumner, Garrett got word that 
the Kid and outfit would be in town that niMit from 
Los Potales, where the 'Kid's' ranch or cave was 
situated, so he secured a house near the road lead- 
ing to 'Potales,' to secret his men in. He then kept 
a man out doors, on guard, watching the road. 

"About ten o'clock that night, while we were all 
inside playing a five-cent game of poker, the guard 
opened the door and said, 'Garrett, here comes a 
crowd down the road!' We all dashed out, Win- 
chesters in hand, and hid behind an adobe fence, 
close by, which they would be compelled to pass. 

The moon was shining and we could tell who it 
was, or at least Garrett and Mason could; they 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 219 

being well acquainted with them. There was six 
in the approaching crowd, and thirteen of us. 

When they rode up within speaking distance 
Garrett yelled, 'throw up your hands!' His voice 
had hardly died out when thirteen shots from our 
nervously gripped Winchesters were fired into their 
midst. 

When the smoke cleared off we found that they 
had all vanished, with the exception of Tom Ophal- 
liard who was mortally wounded, and died shordy 
after. He had several bullet holes through his 
body. These,' poindng down to his feet, 'are his 
over shoes, and this,' pulling off a finely finished 
mexican sombraro and displaying it, "is the hat I 
pulled from his head before he had quit kicking." 

The next morning we struck out on the trail which 
led back towards Los Potales. The white snow 
along the trail was red with blood, having flowed 
from the wounds in Rudabaugh's horse. The poor 
animal died though after carrying his heavy master 
through twelve miles of deep snow. 

About midnight we hove in sight of a little rock 
house standing on the banks of a small arroyo. The 
trail led right up to the door which faced the south. 
Right near the door stood four shivering horses. 



220 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

Knowing we had the httle band trapped, we took 
things cool until daylight, when we stationed our- 
selves around the house. 

There being no opening in the building except 
the door, Garrett and Lee Hall crawled up to the end 
wall so they could watch the door from around the 
corner, while the rest of us concealed ourselves 
behind knolls, etc. 

We had left our horses behind a hill quite a dis- 
tance from the house. 

When it became light enough to see, Charlie 
Bowdre stepped out doors to see about his horse, 
but he hadn't more than hit the ground when two 
bullets, fired by Garrett and Hall, who were still at 
the corner not a dozen feet from the door, sent him 
to his long home. He only uttered a few words, 
which were: 'I wish, I wish,' before his last breath 
left him. 

Of course that caused a stirring around inside; 
they knew what it meant and began making prepar- 
ations for an escape. The 'Kid' had his pony 
inside, out of the cold and the other four — Ruda- 
baugh having secured another one — were tied to 
the door frame so that they could reach the ropes 
without exposing their bodies. Now thought they if 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 221 

we can pull three of the horses inside we will mount 
and make a bold dash out of the door. But when 
they got the first animal about half way into the 
house Garrett sent a bullet through its heart. The 
dead animal of course blocked the way so that they 
had to give up that scheme. 

They then tried picking port holes through the 
thick rock walls, but had to give it up also, as they 
had nothing to do it with but their knives and fire- 
arms. 

The 'Kid' and Garrett finally opened up a con- 
versation. The former seemed to be in fine humor. 
Every now and then he would crack some kind of 
a joke and then laugh, so that every one of us could 
hear him. At one time he asked in a jovial way: 
'Garrett, have you got a fire out there?' *Yes, a 
good one!' was the answer. 'Can we come out and 
warm if we behave ourselves?' 'Yes,' replied 
Garrett, 'but come with your hands up.' 'Oh, you 
goto h — 1, won't you? You old long-legged s-n 
of ab h!' 

You see they were without fire, water or pro- 
visions, consequently we had the advantage. We 
had a good fire out behind one of the knolls and 



222 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

would take turns about, during the day and coming 
night, going to warm. 

They held out until next day, when they surren- 
dered, after being promised protection from mob 
violence. Kid was the last man to come out with 
his hands up. He said he would have starved to 
death before surrendering if the rest had stayed 
with him." 

Chambers, after fmishing gave a heavy sigh and 
wondered whether Garrett and Stuart would act 
white and whack up the reward evenly among the 
whole outfit, or not. 

"Bob"and I made arrangements with the boys to 
loan us their part of the reward, which would 
amount to considerable over a hundred dollars 
apiece, until we got back to the ranch, to pay our 
debts with. 



Chapter XXIII. 

A TRIP TO THE RIO GRANDE ON A 
MULE. 

About the time we were getting out of patience 
. waiting, the two boys, East and Emory, ar- 
rived with the good news that Stuart would be along 
in a few days, he having to remain over to get their 
part of the reward. 

Stuart arrived finally; he came in a buggy with a 
gentleman from "Vegas." His orders to Roberson 
and Torry's men were: "Boys, you fellows pull 
right back to the ranch, as I have got some important 
business to look after in 'Vegas.' We can come 
back after those cattle in the spring." 

The boys who had helped capture the "Kid" and 
outfit rounded him up for their part of the reward, but 
he said it was already spent. Oh no, they wasn't mad ! 
Some of them swore that he would be a corpse be- 
fore morning. But luckily for him he pulled for 
"Vegas" that night. I am not certain whether he was 
aware of his dano^er or not, but there is one thino- 
I am certain of and that is, it wouldn't have been 



2 24 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

healthy for him to remain in that locaHty very long. 
"Bob" had even consented to the crowd hangfinof 
him. I w^as the only one who protested, for the 
simple reason that I do not believe in mob law. Of 
course I thought it very wrong in swindling the 
boys out of equal share of the reward, after they 
had shared equally in the danger and hardships. 

"Bob" was in a bad fix, in debt, no money and 
ordered home, by one whose orders his boss had 
told him to obey. The question was, how to stand 
his creditors off and fjet (rrub, corn, etc. enouQ-h 
to last him home. 

I finally came to his rescue. As I intended re- 
maining, I went to the merchants and told them his 
fix and guaranteed that he would send the mone)- 
he owed as soon as he got home, or else I would 
let them take it out of my four mules and wagon, 
which were worth a thousand dollars at least. 

They let him off; also let him have grub, corn, 
etc. enough to last him home, which would take 
fifteen days to make the trip. 

As some of my boys became homesick, on seeing 
Roberson's outfit getting ready to pull back and as 
I was anxious to cut down expenses, knowing that 
I would have to lay there the rest of the winter, 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 225 

waiting for money to pay up my bills before the 
merchants would let me move my wagon, I let 
three of them go along with "Bob." Those three 
were James East, Cal. Pope and Lee Hall. "Bob" 
let Tom Emory, one of his men, who was stuck on the 
light mountain air of New Mexico remain with me. 
This left me there with a cook and three warriors, 
Emory, Chambers and "Big-foot" Wallace. 

Just as soon as "Bob" had pulled out, I moved 
into town and rented a house, so that we could 
put on style, while waiting for the money I had 
written to the ranch for. 

The mails were so irregular, on account of the 
deep snow which lay on the ground up there in the 
mountains nearly all winter, that I didn't get a letter 
from Moore for three weeks. In the letter were 
drafts for three hundred dollars; and Moore stated 
that I had done just right by not taking Stuart's 
advice and coming home. He also reminded me that 
I mustn't come back until I got the cattle, if ic took 
two years; and also that I must scour out the Sand 
hills on the Plains around Las Potales, "Kid's" den, 
on my return. I distributed the three hundred dol- 
lars among my creditors and then wrote back to the 
ranch for some more, as that was already gone. 



2 26 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

We found the citizens of White Oaks to be sociable 
and kind; and everything went on lovely with the 
exception of a shooting scrape between a School 
teacher and "Big-foot." 

About the last of February I received another 
three hundred dollars and I then struck out, accom- 
panied by Tom Emory, to hunt the noted Pat 
Cohglin and find out if he would let us have the cattle 
withbut bloodshed or not. As he had a slaughter 
house in Fort Stanton I struck out for there first. 

We left the "Oaks" one morning early, Emory 
mounted on his pet "Grey" and I on one of the fat 
work mules and arrived in "Stanton" about sundown. 

We rode up to Cohglin's slaughter pen the first 
thing and found a man by the name of Peppen in 
charge. On examining the hides which hung on 
the fence we found five bearing the "L. X." brand. 
1 laid them to one side and next morning brought 
two men Crawford and Hurly, down from the Post 
to witness the brands. I then told Mr. Peppen, or 
"Old Pap" as he was called, not to butcher any 
more of those cattle sold by "Billy the Kid." He 
promised he wouldn't unless he got new orders 
from Cohglin. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 22/ 

From there we pulled for Tulerosa where CohoHn 
lived. The first night out we stopped at the Mes- 
calero Apache Indian Agency, which is known as 
South Fork. There I learned from the storekeeper 
of a bunch of eight hundred cattle having passed 
there in a terrible hurry, about three weeks be- 
fore, going west. He said that they were undoubt- 
edly stolen catde, for they drove night and day 
through the deep snow. I came to the conclusion 
that maybe it was Tom Cooper, one of "Kid's" right- 
hand bowers with a stolen herd of Panhandle cattle, 
so made up my mind to keep on his trail. 

We rode into Tulerosa the next evening about 
sundown. A young man from the Panhandle, by 
the name of Sam Coleman, who was on his way to 
Willcox, Arizona, was with us. We found the town 
to be a genuine mexican "Plaza" of about one 
thousand souls. We put up for the night at Cohg- 
lin's store and learned from the clerk, Morris, that 
the "King of Tulerosa," as Cohglin was called, was 
down on the Rio Grande on trail of a bunch of cattle 
stolen from him by Tom Cooper. I put that down 
as a very thin yarn, having reasons to believe that 
he and Cooper stood in with one another. I made 
up my mind that it was our catde he was tryino- 



228 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

to get away with, after hearing of us being in the 
-Oaks." 

The clerk had told the truth though, for he was 
after Cooper. The way it happened, Cohglin had 
only paid Cooper and the "Kid" half down on the 
last bunch of Panhandle cattle he bought from them 
and Cooper hearing of "Kid's" capture and of us 
being in the "Oaks" on our way after the cattle, 
came onto Cohglin for the rest of the money so he 
could leave the country. On being refused he got his 
crowd toofether and stole three hundred head of the 
latter's best cattle and pulled for Arizona with them. 

After supper Emory and Coleman went to bed 
while I struck out to a mexican dance, at the out- 
skirts of town, to keep my ears open for news 
connected with Panhandle cattle. 

There being plenty of wine, or "mescal," on the 
ground the "Greasers" began feeling pretty good 
about midnight. Of course I had to join in their 
sports, so as to keep on the good side of them. 
There was only one American in the crowd, besides 
myself. 

I became pretty intimate with one old fellow of 
whom I made scores of inquiries in regard to Mr. 
Cohglin and the herd — the one I heard about at 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 229 

South Fork — that had passed there a few weeks 
before. 

He knew nothing of the herd, no further than 
having- seen it, but he pointed out a long-haired 
"Greaser," who was three sheets in the wind and 
swinging his pistol around on his fore- finger, who 
could tell me all about it, as he had piloted it through 
San Auo-ustine Pass. 

o 

I learned that the herd was owned by Charlie 
Slaughter and that their destination was the Heeley 
River, near Tombstone, Arizona. 

Marking out a lot of brands which I had never 
heard of on a piece of paper, I asked the long-haired 
fellow if he noticed any of them on the cattle. He 
did not. So I then marked off a lot of Panhandle 
brands. He picked out several, the "L. X." among 
them, this time, that he remembered of seeing in 
the herd. This satisfied me that the herd would 
bear inspection. 

The next morning I told Emory what the old 
mexican had said and that my intentions were to kill 
two birds with one stone; find Cohglin and then 
follow the herd. 

This didn't impress Emory very favorably. He 
advised me to return and get the wagon and outfit. 



230 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

I couldn't see the point, for we would lose at least 
a week by the operation. He took the back track 
while I continued single handed, accompanied by 
Sam Coleman, whose route was the same as mine 
until arriving- on the Rio Grande, w^here he would 
change his course to southward. 



Chapter XXIV. 

WAYLAID BY UNKNOWN PARTIES. 

IT'fter leaving Tulerosa our route lay across a 
JTjl young desert, called the "White Sands," a dis- 
tance of sixty miles. That night Sam and I camped 
at a lonely spot called "White Water," where there 
wasn't a stick of wood in sight. We had to make 
a fire out of a bush called the "oil weed" to keep 
warm by. 

The next night we put up with an old man by the 
name of Shedd, who kept a ranch on the east side 
of Osscuro mountains, near San Augustine Pass. 

On arriving in the Pass next morning, on our 
way to Las Cruces, we could see the whole Rio 
Grande valley, dotted with green fields, for at least 
a hundred miles up and down. And by looking 
over our shoulder, in the direction we had come, 
we could see the white looking plain or desert, which 
extends for two hundred miles north and south. It 
was indeed a beautiful sight, to one who had just 
come from a snowy country, and we were loath to 
leave the spot. 



232 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Arriving in Las Cruces, (City of the Crosses) on 
the Rio Grande, twenty-five miles from Shedd's 
where we had left that morning, I went to making 
inquiries about Mr. Pat. Cohglin's whereabouts. I 
found out by the Postmaster, Cunnifee, who was an 
intimate friend of his that he was in El Paso, 
Texas, fifty miles below, and would be up to "Cru- 
ces" the next day. 

That night Sam and I proceeded to take in the 
town, which was booming, on account of the A. T. 
and S. F. R. R. being only forty miles above, and 
on its way down the river to El Paso. 

The next morning Sam bid me adieu and struck 
out on his journey for Willcox, Arizona, about two 
hundred miles distant. 

That evening Mr. Cohglin, whom I found to be a 
large, portly looking half-breed Irishman, drove up 
to Mr. Cunnifee's store in a buggy drawn by a fine 
pair of black horses. 

I introduced myself as having been sent from the 
Panhandle after the cattle he had purchased from 
the "Kid." He at first said I couldn't have them, 
but finally changed his tone, when I told him that I 
had a crowd at White Oaks, and that my instruc- 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 233 

tions were to take them by force if I couldn't secure 
them in any other way. 

He then Leg-an giving me "taffy," as I learned 
afterwards. He promised faithfully that, as he 
didn't like to have his whole herd, which was scat- 
tered through the whole White Mountain district, 
disturbed at that season of the year, if I would wait 
until the first of April, at which time the new grass 
would be up, he would help me round-up every hoof 
of Panhandle cattle on his ranofe. 1 agreed to do 
so providing he would promise not to have any more 
of them butchered. 

The old fellow was worried considerably about 
the three hundred head of cattle Cooper had stolen 
from him. He told me about having followed him 
with a crowd of mexicans into the Black Range, 
near the Arizona line, where he succeeded in eet- 
ting back a few of the broken-down ones. 

There being a fellow by the name of "Hurricane 
Bill," of Ft. Griffin, Texas notoriety, in town, direct 
from Tombstone, Arizona, I concluded to lay over 
a few days and "play in" with him and his gang of 
four or five, in hopes of learning something about 
Slaughter and his herd, the one I was on trail of. 



234 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

I went under an assumed name and told them that 
I was on the "dodge" for a crime committed in 
Southern Texas. 

I found out all about their future plans from one 
of the gang, by the name of Johnson, who seemed 
to be more talkative than the rest. He said they 
were waiting for the railroad to get to El Paso; 
and then they were going into the butchering bus- 
iness on a large scale. He wanted me to join them; 
and said the danger wouldn't be very great, as they 
intended stealing the cattle mostly from ignorant 
mexicans. 

One morning while Johnson and I were eating 
breakfast at a restaurant a man sat down at the 
same table and, recognizing me, said: "Hello," call- 
ing me by name;"where did you come from?" He 
then* continued; although I winked at him several 
times to keep still, "So you fellows succeeded in 
capturing Billy the Kid, did you?" 

Johnson gave a savage glance at me as much as 

to say: d m you, you have been trying to work 

us, have you? I kept my hand near old colts "45" 
for I expected, from his nervous actions, for him to 
make a break of some kind. He finally got up and 
walked out without saying a word. This man who 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 235 

had so suddenly bursted our friendship was a friend 
of Frank Stuart's and had met me in Las Vegas, 
with his chum, Stuart. 

I concluded it wouldn't be healthy for me to re- 
main there till after dark, nor to undertake the trip 
to Tombstone, for I had manifested such an interest 
in the Slaughter herd, etc., that they might follow 
me up, on hearing that I had left town. So I 
wrote a letter to Mr. Moore, telling him of the whole 
circumstances, and asking him if I had better take 
my men and follow the herd to the jumping-off place 
or not? I then struck back to White Oaks over the 
same route I had come. 

That night I stopped at Shedd's ranch; and so 
did Cohglin, he being on his way back to Tulerosa. 

The next day I rode the entire sixty miles, across 
the "white sands," and landed in Tulerosa about a 
half hour behind Cohglin and his fast steppers. I 
was tired though, and swore off ever riding another 
mule on a long trip. I had figured on being in 
mountains all the time, where I would have lots of 
climbing to do, is why I rode the mule instead of a 
horse. 

The next morning I made up my mind that I 
would take a new route to the "Oaks" by going 



236 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

around the mountains through Mr. CohgHn's range 
which was on Three Rivers, twenty odd miles north. 
So before starting I inquired of CohgHn's clerk as 
to the best route. 

I stopped at the Cohglin ranch that night and was 
treated like a white head by Mr. Nesbeth and wife 
who took care of the ranch, that is, done the cook- 
ing, gardening, milking, etc. The herders, or cow- 
boys, were all mexicans, with the exception of Bill 
Gentry, the boss, who was away at the time. 

While getting ready to start for White Oaks next 
morning one of the eight or ten, mexicans, who 
were sitting on the fence sunning themselves, came 
to me, and told me of a near cut to the "Oaks," by 
taking an old Indian trail over the White Mountains, 
and advised me to take that route as I could save 
at least twenty miles, it being forty around by the 
road. 

Mr. Nesbeth spoke up and said it would be better 
for me to travel on the road, even if it was further, 
as I might experience some difficulty in finding the 
old Indian trail. 

The "Greaser" then offered me his service, say- 
ing that he would go and put me on the trail so that 
it would be impossible for me to miss my way. I 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 237 

agreed, so he mounted a pony and we rode east up 
a rough canyon. 

A ride of about five miles brought us to the 
almost obliterated trail. It lead up an awful brushy 
and rocky canyon towards the snowy crags of the 
White Mountain range. 

About an hour after bidding the "Greaser" adieu, 
I came to where the trail made a short curve to the 
left, but I could tell from the lay of the ground that, 
by keeping straight ahead, I would strike it again. 
So I left it, and luckily for me that I did, for there 
was some one laying for me not far from there. 

I hadn't gone but a rod or two when bang! bang! 
bang! went three shots in quick succession, not over 
fifty yards to the left; and at the same time my 
mule gave a lunge forward, on the ice-covered 
stones, and fell broad-side, throwing me over a pre- 
cipice about eight feet to the bottom. My Win- 
chester and pistol both were hanging to the saddle- 
horn, but I managed to grab and pull the latter out 
of the scabbard as I went off, and took it with me. 

The first thing I done on striking bottom was to 
hunt a hole. I found a nice little nook between two 
boulders and lay there with cocked pistol, expecting 
every second to see three Indians or "Greasers" 



238 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

peep over the ledge on the hunt for a dead "Gringo" 
— as the mexicans call an American. 

After waiting a few minutes I became impatient 
and crawled on top of a small knoll and, on looking 
in the direction the shooting had come from, I got 
a faint glimpse of what I took to be two half-stooped 
human forms retreating, through the pinyon brush, 
at a lively gait. Suffice it to say I found my mule 
standing in a grove of trees, with his front feet fas- 
tened in the bridle-reins, about two hundred yards 
from where he fell. And between his forelegs, on 
the ground was a small pool of sparkling red blood, 
which had dripped from a slight bullet wound in his 
breast. 

On examination I found that one bullet had cut 
a groove in the hind tree of my saddle, and another 
had plowed through a pair of blankets tied behind 
the saddle. I arrived in the Oaks, on my almost 
broken-down mule about dark that night, after an 
absence of nearly two weeks. 



Chapter XXV. 
LOST ON THE STAKED PLAINS. 

About a week after my return to White Oaks, I 
. received a letter from Mr. Moore stating that 
I need not go to Arizona to look after the Slaughter 
herd as he had hired a United States Deputy Mar- 
shal by the name of John W. Poe, now Sheriff of 
Lincoln County, New Mexico, to go around by rail 
and tend to the matter. But when Poe arrived there 
the herd had been sold and driven to Old Mexico, 
so that we never knew whether there were any Pan- 
handle catde in it or not, except what I learned 
from the mexican, which appeared to me very good 
evidence, that there were. 

On the tenth day of March, while taking it easy 
waiting for the first of April to arrive so that we 
could round up the Cohglin range according to 
agreement, I received a confidential letter from Mr. 
Geo. Nesbeth of the Cohglin ranch, giving me a 
broad hint that Mr. Cohglin was getting rid of our 



240 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

cattle as fast as possible, before the first of April 
should arrive. 

The letter arrived in the evening and next morn 
ing I took "Big foot" along and struck out for 
"Stanton" — after giving Chambers and Emory or- 
ders to load up the wagon with grub and corn, and 
follow. 

"Big-foot" and I arrived in the Post about three 
o'clock in the afternoon and went through the Cohof- 
lin slaughter pens, finding several freshly butchered 
"L. X." hides, which went to show that I had been 
duped, and that the hint from Nesbeth was true. 
We then rode down the "Bonetta" River nine miles 
to Lincoln, to go through the hides there and to 
look for a herd we expected the old fellow had hid- 
den out somewhere alonof the river. 

We stopped in "Stanton" that night and next 
morning struck out on the White Oaks road to meet 
the wagon and turn it towards Three Rivers. 

We met the outfit at the mouth of Nogal canyon 
and camped for dinner. 

It was sixty miles around by the road to Cohglin's 
ranch, the route the wagon would have to go and 
about twenty-five or thirty on a straight line over 
the White Mountains. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 24 1 

After dinner "Big-foot" and I struck out over the 
mountains, while Emory and Chambers went around 
by the road to pilot the cook. 

About twelve o'clock that night, after a very hard 
ride over one of the roughest strips of snow cov- 
ered countries a man ever saw, we arrived at the 
Cohglin ranch. 

We found the corral full of cattle, but, being very 
dark, couldn't tell whose they were. 

Mr. and Mrs. Nesbeth got up out of bed and gave 
us a cold supper; and he also gave us a few pointers 
in regard to his employer's doings, etc. He in- 
formed me that Bill Gentry, the boss, had just 
began, that day, gathering the remaining Panhandle 
cattle, that might still be left on the range, to take 
to the ''Stanton" slaughter pens. Hence those 
cattle in the corral. 

After breakfast Gentry and his seven "Greasers" 
turned the herd out of the corral with the intention 
of keeping right on with his work. There was 
only five head of "L. X.'s," all large steers, in the 
bunch and I told Gentry that I would have to take 
charge of those and also gather up the rest that 
were on his range. He couldn't agree to that, he 
said, for his orders from Cohglin were, not to give 



242 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

up any of the Panhandle cattle, etc. I told him 
that I didn't care what his orders were, as I was 
bound to have the cattle. 

Just about the time we were arguing the case the 
rest of my outfit hove in sight; they had been trav- 
eling all night. 

After camping the wagon we all went out to the 
herd, which the mexicans were guarding and pro- 
ceeded to cutting our five head out. Gentry tried to 
get me to wait until he could send for Cohglin, he 
having already dispatched a mexican to Tulerosa 
after him, but I wouldn't reason the matter at all, 
as I was mad about the way I had been served. 

We went right to work after cutting out the five 

• 

head, rounding up the whole range in search of 
more, but after three days hard work we only suc- 
ceeded in finding three head more. But we left 
there with nine head, the ninth one being one of 
Cohcrlin's own steers which we butchered in the 
Oaks on our arrival back there, for the benefit of 
our many friends whom had been depending on us 
all winter for their fresh beef. Thus I had the satis- 
faction of getting even with the old fellow to the 
extent of one steer and a fat hog which we had 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 243 

butchered and stowed away in the wagon the night 
before leaving. 

The mexican that Gentry sent to Tulerosa with 
the dispatch had to go on down to Las Cruces, on 
the Rio Grande, Cohghn having started down there 
the day before; hence we not having the old fellow 
to contend with. 

After looking over the "Carezo" range, which 
was owned by Catron and Waltz and several small 
mexican ranges, we pulled into White Oaks with 
lots of experience but very few cattle. 

On arriving in the "Oaks" I wrote to Mr. Moore 
telling him all about the way in which Cohglin 
had taken advantage of me, etc. Also advised 
him to have the old fellow prosecuted as I had 
sufficient evidence to send him to the "Pen." 

Mr. Moore on getting my letter, sent John Poe, 
the United States Deputy Marshal that he had 
sent to Tombstone, Arizona, over to have Cohglin 
arrested and put through the mill. 

On leaving the "Oaks" for good, I bought a 
wagon load of corn, chuck, etc. for which I gave 
orders on the "L. X." company, not having any 
money left. The merchants had by this time, be- 



244 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

come acquainted with me, so that my name to an 
order was just the same as cash to them. 

From the "Oaks" I pulled due east, around the 
"Capitan" mountains to Roswell on the Pecos River. 
I overhauled scores of little mexican ranches scat- 
tered through the mountains on my route, but failed 
to find any of our stock. At Roswell though we 
found two large steers which swelled our little herd 
to ten head. 

From Roswell we went to John Chisholm's ranch 
on the head of South Spring River; and got there 
just in time as he was rigging up his outfit for spring 
work. They were going to start down the Reo 
Pecos to the Texas line, next day, to begin work 
and I concluded we had better work with them, in 
search of Panhandle cattle which might have drifted 
across the Plains. 

I took my outfit back to Roswell, five miles, 
where I made arrangements with Capt. J. C. Lea, 
who kept a store, to board one of my men whom I 
wanted to leave there to take care of the ten head of 
steers until my return, not caring to drive them two 
hundred miles down the river and then back again. 

Not having grub enough to last on the trip I 
bought a supply from the accommodating Capt. Lea, 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 245 

who took my note for pay. He also sold me two 
horses on the same terms. 

We were absent two weeks on this trip, but 
failed to find any of our cattle. We came back 
with the satisfaction though of knowing that there 
wasn't any in that part of the world. 

On our arrival back to Roswell we learned of the 
"Kid's" escape from Lincoln after having killed his 
two p-uards. That nio^ht Lon Chambers wore a 
different hat; he had swapped his star-spangled 
mexican sombraro off to one of Chisholm's men. 
This hat had been presented to Tom O'Phalliard by 
the "Kid," hence Chambers not wanting it in his 
possession for fear he might run across the "Kid." 
Chambers of course denied the above, saying that 
he never thought of such a thing, but traded it off 
just because it, being so heavy, made his head ache. 
But that was too thin we thought under the circum- 
stances. Any of us would have done the same 
though, no doubt, knowing that the "Kid" had 
sworn vengeance against all of O'Phalliard's "mur- 
derers" as he termed them. 

We found Emory and the ten steers doing finely. 

Tom hated to see us back for he was having such 

a soft time. All he had to do was turn the steers 



246 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

out of the corral, morning-s, and then round-up and 
pen them at night again. 

After drawing on the whole-souled Capt. Lea 
again for more grub, etc., we pulled up the Reo 
Pecos — lookinof througrh all the cattle on our route 
— to Ft. Sumner, a distance of one hundred miles. 

We laid over in Sumner two days and went to 
a mexican fandango both nights, at the Maxwell 
mansion -in which the "Kid" was killed shortly after- 
wards. The "Kid" was in the building while the 
dance was going on but we didn't know it at the 
time. The way I found it out, I had escorted a 
young woman, after the dance, one night, to her 
room, which was in the same building as the dance, 
and she bid me good night without asking me in. 
I thought it strange but never said anything. That 
fall when I came back there she explained matters, 
by saying that the "Kid" was in her room at the 
time, reading. I had noticed that she stood outside 
of the door until I had turned the corner out of 
sight. She also explained that: The "Kid" had 
the door locked and she had to give a private rap to 
get him to open it. 

From Ft. Sumner we pulled due east on the Los 
Potales road, on our way to scour out the "Sand 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 247 

Hills" according to Moore's instruction in one of 
his letters to me at White Oaks. Before leavino- the 
Post, the last settlement or store that we would come 
to before reaching the Canadian River, I sold one 
of the horses bought from Capt. Lea, for thirty-five 
dollars and laid in a small supply of grub with the 
money. Not being acquainted there my credit 
wasn't good, hence having to sell the horse. 

Two days out from Ft. Sumner we came to the 
little rock house, at Stinking Springs, where the 
"Kid" and his companions held out so long without 
fire, food or water. Chambers and Emory of course 
had to explain and point out every place of interest, 
to "Big- foot Wallace," the mexican cook, Frank, or 
Francisco, and myself. 

The second day after leaving Stinking Springs, 
we came to the "Kid's" noted "Castle" at Los Pota- 
les, on the western edge of the great " Llano 
Estacado." 

Los Potales is a large alkali Lake, the water of 
which is unfit for man or beast. But on the north 
side of the lake is two nice, cool springs which gur- 
gle forth from a bed of rock, near the foot of 
"Kid's" Casde — a small cave in the cliff. In front 
of the cave is a stone corral about fifty feet square; 



248 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

and above the cave on the level plain is several 
hitching posts. Outside of those things mentioned 
there is nothing but a level prairie just as far as the 
eye can reach. 

We found about one hundred head of cattle, 
mostly from the Canadian River, but a few from as 
far north as Denver Col., at "Potales," which im- 
proved the appearance of our little herd consid- 
erably. 

From there we went to the Coyote lake, twelve 
miles further east, where we found about fifty head 
more cattle, a mixed lot like the first. They were 
almost as wild as deer. 

We then pulled into the Sand Hills, which extend 
over a scope of country from ten to fifty miles wide, 
and two hundred long — that is, two hundred miles 
north and south. 

After about ten days hard work we came out onto 
the Plains again, our herd having increased to about 
twenty-five hundred head. We were undoubtedly 
a worn-out crowd — horses and all. To do that 
amount of work we should have had at least five 
more men, and three or four more horses apiece. 
We only had one horse apiece, besides one extra, 
and the four work mules, which we had to press 



BY CIIAS. A. SIRINGO. 249 

into double duty by using them to guard the cattle 
at night. 

The next day about noon, after getting out of the 
Sand Hills, we came to a buffalo-hunter's camp on 
the head of Yellow-house canyon, a tributary to the 
Brazos River. There was one man in camp, the 
other one being away on a hunt. Our cattle being 
nearly dead for water, there being none there, with 
the exception of a small spring, just large enough 
to allow one animal to drink at a time, I asked the 
hunter to give me directions to the nearest water 
from there, on our route. 

Pointing to a cluster of sand hills about fifteen 
miles to the east, he said: "You will find Running 
Water, the head of Canyon Blanco, just eight miles 
east of those sand hills." As we learned, after it 
was too late, he should have said ; eight miles north 
of the sand hills, instead of east. We were all 
acquainted with the country from Running Water 
north, but had never been south of it; hence lis 
having to depend on the "locoed" buffalo-hunter's 
directions. 

We camped for the night within a few miles of 
the sand hills. The cattle were restless all nieht. 



250 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

on account of being thirsty, which caused us all to 
lose sleep and rest. 

The next morning, after eating a hasty breakfast, 
we let the moaning herd string out towards the big 
red sun which was just making its appearance. 

Giving the boys orders to keep headed east, and 
tellinof the cook to follow behind the herd with his 
wagon, I struck out ahead on my tired and weak 
pony, Croppy, to find the water, which was "so 
near, and yet so far." 

I rode about fifteen miles, and still no water. I 
then dismounted to wait for the herd to come in 
sight, but changed my notion and galloped on five 
miles further, thinking maybe the hunter might have 
meant eiehteen miles instead of eio-ht. The five 
miles was reached and still nothing but a dry, level 
plain, with no indications of water ahead, as far as 
I could see. 

Thinking maybe I had bore too far to the south, I 
then rode five or six miles to the north, but with 
the same result. I then, after letting Croppy blow 
awhile started back towards the herd at a slow gait. 

Finally a cloud of dust appeared, and shortly 
after, the herd hove in sight. The poor cattle were 
com.ing in a trot, their tongues hanging out a foot. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 25 I 

The way the boys cursed and abused that poor 
old hunter, at a distance, was a sin, after I had told 
them of our luck. Chambers wanted to go riglit 
back andeatthepoor"locoed"humanup alive without 
salt or pepper. But I pacified him by saying that 
maybe he had made a mistake of a few miles, meant 
eighty instead of eight. At any rate we continued 
right on, east. 

About noon our ten-gallon keg run dry, and then 
we began to feel ticklish, scared, or whatever you 
wish to call it. But about three o'clock, we spied 
a bunch of mustangs off to the right, about five 
miles, and on galloping over to where they had been, 
before seeing me, I found a small pool of muddy 
rain water, which they had been wallowing in. 

After letting Croppy fill up, and eating a drink of 
the muddy stuff myself, I struck back to let the other 
boys come on and fill up; also sent the cook to fill 
the keg, and to water his mules, I kept the herd, 
they being anxious to travel in search of water, 
pointed east, by myself, while the rest of the boys 
were absent. 

We traveled till midnight and then pitched camp 
to get something to eat. After getting supper 
cooked, it was almost an impossibility to find time 



252 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

to eat it, as the herd kept milling and trotting around 
like so many crazy animals. 

We remained there all night, and next morning 
used the last drop of water to make coffee. We 
found the keg, after draining it, to be about half 
full of solid mud. 

I concluded that we had gone far enough east, so, 
that morning changed our course to north. 

About eleven o'clock, while the hot June sun was 
coming down with vengeance, we struck a large 
lake about a mile wide. If ever a crowd was happy 
it was us. The poor cattle drank till some of them 
fell down and was unable to move. 

We laid there resting up until the next day after 
dinner. Our grub had given out by this time, there- 
fore we had nothing to eat but coffee and beef 
"straight." 

When we left the lake our course was due north. 

About noon the next day we came to the head of 
Canyon Blanco, twelve miles below Running Water, 
consequently we turned west, and traveled twelve 
miles up the dry canyon before pitching camp. 

From there we turned due north again and trav- 
eled two days before striking any more water. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 253 

On arriving at Terra Blanco, fifty miles south of 
the Canadian river we struck Mr. Summerfield, and 
his outfit, from whom we borrowed grub enough to 
last us home. There were also two "L. X." boys 
in the Summerfield camp, and they, having five good 
horses apiece, divided with us. Our ponies were 
just about completely peetered out. 

We landed at the "L. X." ranch on the 22nd day 
of June, with the herd of twenty-five hundred head 
of cattle, after having been absent just seven months, 
to a day. 



Chapter XXVI. 
A TRIP DOWN THE REO PECOS. 

On my return I found that the "L. X." ranch had 
changed bosses. Moore had quit and bought 
a ranch of his own, while John HolHcott, one of the 
old hands had been put in his place. Hence in the 
future I had to be governed by Mr. Hollicott's 
orders — that is while working around the ranch. 
One of the firm, Erskine Clement, had charo-e of 
outside matters, now, since Moore had left. 

I put in the summer running a branding outfit, 
loafing around Tascosa, working up a cattle steal- 
ing case, etc., until the middle of October, when 
Clement received a letter from John Poe, who was 
prosecuting Cohglin, stating for Chambers and I to 
come over to Lincoln as witnesses in the Cohglin 
case. The time set for us to be there, was on the 
7th day of November, therefore we had no time to 
lose, it being five hundred miles over there, by the 
shortest route. 

Hollicott and Clement talked the matter over and 
concluded that I had better not come back until the 
4 



256 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

next spring — "just put in the winter drifting overthe 
country, wherever you can do the most good," was 
my orders. 

Chambers and I struck out from Tascosa on 
the 22nd of October. He had only one horse, 
while I had two of the best animals on the ranch, 
Croppy and Buckshot. 

We traveled up the river to Liberty, New Mexico, 
and from there cut across the Staked Plains to Ft. 
Sumner, on the Reo Pecos. 

The distance from "Sumner" to the "Oaks" 
was about one hundred miles on a bee line across 
the country, while it was one hundred and fifty 
around by the road. We chose the former route, 
although we were told that there wasn't any 
water until reaching the Capitan mountains within 
thirty miles of the "Oaks," We both wished though, 
that we had followed the road, for, our progress be- 
ing very slow on account of the loose dirt which 
would give away under a horse, allowing him to 
sink almost to his knees, we came very near perish- 
ing from thirst; and so did our poor horses. 

We landed in White Oaks about noon of the 
fourth day out from Ft. Sumner; and had been on 
the road twelve days from Tascosa. We were 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 257 

welcomed back to the "Oaks" by all of our old 
acquaintances, especially those whom we had furn- 
ished with stolen beef all winter. 

As we had five days to loaf in, before court set 
in, we went to work prospecting for gold, every 
body in the town being at fever heat over recent 
rich strikes. 

The first day was spent in climbing to the top of 
Baxter mountain, where most of the rich mines 
were located, and back. The only thing we found 
of interest was a lot of genuine oyster shells im- 
bedded in a large rock on the extreme top of the 
mountain. Of course this brought up a discussion 
as to how they came there. Chambers contended 
that they grew there during the flood, and I argued 
that they were there before God made the earth. 
We both finally got mad, each one, over the other's 
weak argument, and began to slide down hill to- 
wards town, which looked something like a checker- 
board from where we were. 

The next day we tied the pick and shovel behind 
our saddles and struck out on horseback to pros- 
pect in the valleys. At last we struck it, a fine gold 
bearing lead. It cropped out of the ground about 



2r8 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

a foot. I told Chambers to go to work and dig the 
prospect-hole, while I wrote out the location notices. 

Finally an old miner by the name of Stone came 
to us. I was sitting under the shade of a pinyon 
tree writing, while Chambers was sweating like a 
"Nigger at election." "What are you fellows trying 
to do?" spoke up Mr. Stone, after grinning a few 
moments. We told him. He then said: "Why 
neither one of you fellows has got as much sense 
as a last year's bird's nest; that's nothing but a very 
common ledofe of rock." We took him at his word 
and went back to town. 

That niofht Mr. Stone orave us one of his mines, 
if we would sink a twenty foot shaft on it. We 
done so; that is, Chambers did, while I carried 
water, and rode into town every day at noon to 
bring him out his dinner. 

Finally our time was out and we had to pull for 
Lincoln, a distance of thirty-five miles. Poe had 
written to me to come in after night, and on the sly, 
as he wanted to make Cohglin believe that we 
wouldn't be there to appear against him, so he 
would let his trial come off, instead of taking a 
change of venue. I left Croppy in a feed stable to 
be taken care of until my return. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 259 

Arriving in Lincoln, Poe sent us down the Reo 
Bonetta, twelve miles, to stop with a Mr. Cline, 
with whom he had made arrangements, until sent 
for. 

Mr. Cline was a Dutchman who had married a 
mexican wife and had a house full of little half- 
breeds around him. 

Time passed off very slowly to Chambers and I. 
although our host tried to amuse us by telling his 
hairbreadth escapes from wild indians and grizzly- 
bears. 

We were indeed glad when Mr. Poe rode up, after 
we had been at the Cline ranch twelve days, and 
told us that we were free. Cohglin had "smelled a 
mice" and taken a change of venue to Mesilla, in 
Dona Anna County. 

Before leaving Lincoln I had to sign a five hun- 
dred dollar bond for my appearance in Mesilla, as a 
witness against Cohglin, on the first Monday in 
April, 1882, which was the following spring. Mr. 
Chambers being sworn and not knowing anything 
of importance, was allowed to return home. We 
both received ninety dollars apiece, for mileage and 
witness fees. 



260 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Returning to White Oaks, Chambers remained 
there a week, making- love to his mexican widow, 
and then struck for the "L. X." ranch, by way of 
Anton Chico, and down the Canadian River. The 
route he and I had come was too far between ranches 
for him, travehng alone. 

I remained in the "Oaks" about a week after my 
"pard" had left, waiting for some more money 
which I had written for. 

From the "Oaks" I went to Roswell on the Reo 
Pecos, a distance of one hundred and twenty-five 
miles, by the route I took. There I struck com- 
pany, a jovial old soul by the name of "Ash" Upson, 
who was just starting to the Texas Pacific Railroad, 
two hundred miles down the river, to meet Pat. 
Garrett, who had written to come there after him, 
in a buggy. Ash was making his home at Garrett's 
ranch, a few miles from Roswell. 

We laid over Christmas day at the mouth of Seven 
Rivers and helped kind Mrs. Jones, one of Mr. 
Upson's old-time friends, get away with a nice tur- 
key dinner. 

While sitting around our camp-fire at nights "Old" 
Ash would amuse me by relating circumstances con- 
nected with the "bloody Lincoln County war." He 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 26 I 

also gave me a full sketch of "Billy the Kid's" life, 
a subject which I am going to devote the next chap- 
ter to, as I imagine it will be interesting reading to 
some. 

We arrived at Pecos Station, on the T. P. R. R., 
one afternoon about three o'clock. And it being a 
terribly lonesome place, we, after leaving our horses 
and things in care of an old wolf hunter who prom- 
ised to see that the horses were well fed, boarded 
the west bound passenger train for Toyah, a distance 
of twenty-two miles. 

We put up at the Alverado House, in Toyah. It 
was kept by a man named Newell, who had a pretty 
little fifteen-year old daughter, whose sparkling eyes 
were too much for me; to use a western phrase, 
she broke me all up on the first round. 

After supper Ash went out to take in the town, 
while I remained in the office exchanging glances 
with Miss Bulah. 

It was New Year's eve and Mr. and Mrs. Newell 
were making preparations for a ball to be given 
New Year's night. 

Toyah was then one of those terrible wicked infant 
towns, it being only a few months old and con- 
tained over a dozen saloons and gambling halls. 



262 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

About midnight Ash got through taking in the 
town and came back to the hotel. He was three 
sheets in the wind, but swore he hadn't drank any- 
thing but "Tom and Jerry." 

The next morning the town was full of railroaders, 
they having come in to spend New Years. A grand 
shooting match for turkeys was advertised to come 
off at ten o'clock, and everybody, railroaders and all, 
were cleaning up their pistols, when Ash and I got 
up, we having slept till about nine o'clock. 

Miss Bulah made a remark, in my presence, that 
she wished someone would win a fat turkey and 
give it to her. Now was my time to make a "mash," 
so I assured her that I would bring in a dozen or 
two and lay them at her feet. 

When the shootino- commenced I was on hand 
and secured the ticket which was marked number 
eleven. The tickets were sold at twenty-five cents 
apiece, and if you killed the bird, you were entitled 
to a free shot until you missed. 

Mr. Miller, the Justice, was running the business 
for what money there was in it. He had sent to 
Dallas, six hundred miles east, after the turkeys, 
which had cost him three dollars apiece. Hence 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 263 

he had to regulate the distance and everything so 
that there would be considerable missing done. 

Everything being ready, he placed the turkey in 
an iron box, with nothino- but its head visible and 
then set the box thirty-five yards from the line. The 
shooting to be done with pistols "ofT hand." 

Ten shots were fired and still Mr. turkey was 
casting shy glances towards the large crowd of 
several hundred men. Mr. Miller wore a pleasant 
smile, when he shouted number eleven. 

I stepped forward trembling like an aspen leaf, 
for fear I would miss and thereby fail to win Miss 
Bulah's admiration. I was afraid, should the bullet 
miss its mark, that the few dozen birds would be 
all killed before my time would come around again, 
there being so many men waiting for a shot. At 
last I cut loose and off went the turkey's head, also 
Mr. Miller's happy smile. You see he lacked "two 
bits" of getting cost for the bird. 

Another one was put up, and off went his head. 
This was too much for Mr. Miller, two birds already 
gone and only two dollars and "six bits" in the pot. 
He finally after humming and hawing awhile, said: 

"Gentlemen, I don't like to weaken this early in 
the game, but you all know I have got a large 



264 'A TEXAS COW BOY. 

family to support and consequently I will have to 
rule this young man out of the ring. He's too slick 
with a pistol to have around a game of this kind 
anyway." 

I hated to quit of course, but it was best, for I 
might have missed the very next time, and as it was 
Bulah would think that I would have carried out m}' 
promise if I had been allowed to keep on. 

After that, during my stay on the T. P. R. R., I 
was called the "Turkey shooter." Often while 
riding near the railroad track, maybe four or five 
hundred miles from Toyah, some one would hail 
me from a passing train by that name; and when- 
ever I would ride into a town there was sure to be 
some fellow on hand to point me out. They all 
knew me so well by my horse. Croppy, he being 
milk white and both ears being off close up to his 
head. He was indeed a notable animal, as well as 
a long, keen, good one. 

That night nearly everybody got drunk, old Ash 
excepted of course, as he was already full. The 
l^all was a errand success. The dancers on the wo- 
mens' side, were all married ladies, with the excep- 
tion of Miss Bulah and a Miss Lee; and those on 
the opposite side were a terribly mixed mob, but 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 265 

mostly gamblers, horse thieves and cow boys. The 
railroaders didn't take any stock in the ball. Maybe 
it was because there were so many on the floor 
wearing six-shooters and bowie knives around their 
waists. 

It was indeed a grand sight next morning looking 
at black eyes and swollen heads. Every Chinaman, 
there being a dozen or two living in town, skipped 
for parts unknown that night. There was too many 
loose bullets flying through the air to suit them ; and 
it is said that the "Pig-tails" have shunned Toyah 
ever since that New Year's night. 

A few days after New Years a telegram came to 
Ash, from Garrett who had arrived at Pecos Station 
stating: "Come on the first train as I am in a hurry 
to get home." Ash got me to answer it as he, hav- 
ing drank too much Tom and Jerry, was unable to 
walk to the Telegraph office. I sent the following 
message: "Can't leave here; owe every man in 
town." 

In a few minutes another one came, an answer to 
the one just sent, stating: "If you don't come down 
on the morning train I will strike out and leave 
you." 



266 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

This one raised Ash's spunk, so he told n;e to 
write down just what he told me, and then give it 
to the operator. I done as requested, which ran 
thus: "Go to, hie, h — 1, d you!" 

The next evening, Garrett arrived on the west 
bound passenger, and next morning, after paying 
a lot of saloon bills, etc., took old Ash back with 
him. 

I had, the day after New Year's, went down to 
the Pecos and brought my ponies up to Toyah, 
therefore I took a little spin out into the country to 
pass off the time, every now and then, or at least 
to look through a few herds of cattle in that vicinity. 

After spending about two weeks around Toyah, 
I struck out for Colorado City, two hundred miles 
east. Of course I hated to part with Miss Bulah; 
and so did Mr. Newell hate to part with me, for he 
was losing a good cash boarder. 




"BILLY THE KID." 



Chapter XXVII. 

A TRUE SKETCH OF "BILLY THE KID'S" 

LIFE. 

The cut on opposite page was taken from a photo- 
graph and represents the "Kid" as he appeared 
before the artist after having just returned from a 
long, tiresome raid; and the following sketch of his 
short but eventful life was gleaned from himself, 
Ash Upson and others. The circumstance con- 
nected with his death I got from the lips of John 
W. Poe, who was with Garrett when he fired the 
fatal shot. 

Billy Bonney, alias the "Kid" was born in New- 
York City, November the 23rd, 1859; and at the 
age of ten he, in company with his mother and step- 
father, Antrim, landed in the Territory of New 
Mexico. 

Mr. Antrim, shortly after his arrival in the Terri- 
tory, opened up a restaurant in Santa Fe, the 
Capitol, and one of his boarders was the jovial old 



270 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Ash Upson, my informant, who was then interested 
in a newspaper at that place. 

Often when Ash was too busily engaged about 
his office to go to dinner, Mrs. Antrim would send 
it by her little merry-eyed boy, Billy, who was the 
pride of her life. 

Finally Ash sold out and moved to Silver City, 
which was then booming on account of its rich 
mines. And it wasn't long until Mr. Antrim fol- 
lowed and opened up another eating house there, 
with Ash as a boarder again. Thus it will be seen 
that my informant was just the same as one of the 
family for quite a while. 

The "Kid's" first man, as told to me by himself, 
was a negro soldier in Ft. Union, whom he shot in 
self-defence. 

His next killing was a young blacksmith in Silver 
City whom he killed in a personal encounter, but not 
according to law, hence it was this scrape that first 
caused him to become an outcast; driven from pillar 
to post, out of reach of a kind mother's influence. 

It was a cold stormy night when he, after kissing 
his mother's pale cheeks for the last time on this 
earth, rode out into the darkness, headed west 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 27 1 

for the wilds of Arizona, where he soon became an 
adept art cards and horse stealing. 

He finally landed in the City of Chihuahua, Old 
Mexico, with a pocket full of Arizona gold. Here 
he led a gay life until one night when a bullet from 
his trusty revolver sent a rich mexican monte-dealer 
to his long and happy home. 

The next we hear of him is in the friendly land 
of Texas, where he remained in retirement until the 
spring of 1876, when he drifted across the lonely 
Gandalupe mountains into Lincoln County, New 
Mexico, then the outlaw's Paradise. 

At Lincoln, the county seat, he hired out as a 
cow boy to a young Englishman by the name of 
Tunstall. 

In the spring of '78 Mr. Tunstall was killed by a 
mob, headed by a fellow named Morton, from the 
Reo Pecos. 

The "Kid" hearing of his employer's foul murder, 
rode into Lincoln from the Tunstall ranch to learn 
the full particulars concerning the killing. He and 
the young Englishman were warm friends and before 
leaving the ranch he swore vengeance against every 
one of the murderers. 



272 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Arriving in the mexican Plaza of Lincoln the 
"Kid" learned that Morton and crowd had pulled 
back to the Reo Pecos. So he joined a crowd 
composed of the following- named parties: R. M. 
Bruer, J. G. Skurlock, Charlie Bowder, Henry 
Brown, Frank McNab, Fred Wayt, Sam Smith, 
Jim French, McClosky and Johnny Middleton, and 
started in pursuit. This was just the beginning of 
the "bloody Lincoln County war" which you have 
all read so much about. But it is said that the 
"Kid" killed every man connected with the murder 
of his friend before the war ended. 

Billy was caught in a great many close places 
during the six month's bloody encounter, but always 
managed to escape, as though possessed of a charm- 
ed life. There is one of his hair-breadth escapes 
I wish to relate, just to show how cool he was in 
time of danger. 

He and about a dozen of his men were housed 
up at lawyer McSween's in Lincoln, when thirty-five 
of the Seven River "warriors" and two companies 
of United States Soldiers under command of Col. 
Dudly of the Ninth Cavalry, surrounded and set 
the large two-story building on fire, determined to 
capture or kill the young outlaw. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 2/3 

The house was burning on the south side from 
whence the wind came, and as the fire advanced 
the Httle crowd would move further north, into an 
adjoining room. There was a fine piano in the par- 
lor, the property of Mrs. McSween, who was absent, 
and on this the "Kid" played during the whole time, 
"just to amuse the crowd outside" he said. , 

Finally everything was wrapped in flames but the 
little kitchen which stood adjoining the main build- 
ing on the north, but still the coarse music con- 
tinued to sail forth out onto the night air. 

At last the blaze began to stick its firey tongues 
into the kitchen. Then the music ceased, and 
the little band, headed by the "Kid" made a bold 
dash for liberty, amidst the thick shower of hot 
lead. The balance can be described best by quoting 
a negro soldier's words, he being nearest the 
kitchen door when the dash was made: "I jes' tell 
you white folkses dis nigger was for getting away 
from dah, kase dat Billy-goat was shooten wid a 
gun and two six-pistols all bofe at de same time." 

The "Kid" and Tom OThalliard were the onl}- 
ones who came out of this scrape unhurt. Mr. 
McSween, owner of the burned building was among 
the killed. He had nine bullets in his body. 



2 74 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Late that fall when the war had ended, "Kid" and 
the remainder of his little gang stole a bunch of 
horses from the Seven River warriors, whom they 
had just got through fighting with and drove them 
across the Plains to the Texas Panhandle, at Tas- 
cosa on the Canadian, where they were soon dis- 
posed of at good figures. 

After lying around the little town of Tascosa for 
nearly a month, squandering their surplus wealth on 
poor whisky and mexican woman, they, with the ex- 
ception of Fred Wayt and Henry Brown who struck 
east for the Chickisaw nation where the former's 
mother and two half-breed sisters lived, pulled back 
to Lincoln County, New Mexico, to continue their 
lawlessness. 

From that time on, the "Kid" made a specialty of 
stealing cattle and horses, although he would kill 
a man now and then, for what he supposed to be a 
just cause. Let it be said right here that the "Kid" 
was not the cruel hearted wretch that he was pic- 
tured out to be in the scores of yellow-back novels, 
written about him. He was an outlaw and maybe 
a very wicked youth, but then he had some good 
qualities which, now that he is no more, he should 
be credited with. It has been said and written that 



BY CIIAS. A. SIRINGO. 275 

he would just as soon shoot an innocent child as a 
mule-eared rabbit. Now this is all wrong, for he 
was noted as being kind to the weak and helpless; 
there is one case in particular which I can prove: 

A man, now a highly respected citizen of White 
Oaks, was lying at the point of death in Ft. Sumner, 
without friends or money, and a stranger, when the 
"Kid," who had just come into town from one of his 
raids, went to his rescue, on hearing of his helpless 
condition; the sick man had been placed in an old 
out-house on a pile of sheep skins. The "Kid" hired 
a team and hauled him to Las Vegas, a distance of 
over a hundred miles, himself, where he could re- 
ceive care and medical aid. He also paid the doctor 
and board bills for a month, besides putting a few 
dollars in money in the sick man's hand as he bid 
him good bye. 

This circumstance was told to me by the sick man 
himself, who at the time was hale and hearty, on 
hearing of the "Kid's" death. While relating it the 
tears chased one another down his manly cheeks, 
to the end, at which time he pulled out a large red 
handkerchief and wiped them away. 

After the "Kid's" capture at Stinking Springs, he 
was lodged in jail at Santa Fe, and the following 



276 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Spring taken to Mesilla, county seat of Dona Ana 
county, and tried before Judge Bristol for the mur- 
der of Sheriff Brady, during the Lincoln county 
war. 

He was sentenced to be taken to Lincoln, and 
hung on the 13th day of May. On the 21st day of 
April he was turned over to Pat. Garrett, who, being 
sheriff, was to see that the law was carried out. 

There being no jail in Lincoln, Garrett used his 
office, which was up-stairs in the two-story court 
house, to guard the prisoner in. Robert Ollinger 
and J. W. Bell, two men who should have been 
hung before William Bonney was born — judging 
from reliable reports, were secured to do the 
guarding. 

The morning of April, 28th, Garrett was making 
preparations to go to White Oaks, when he told 
the guards to be very watchful as the prisoner, not 
having but a few more days to live, might make a 
desperate effort to escape. 

Ollinger who hated the "Kid," they having fought 
against one another in the Lincoln County war, 
spoke up and said: "Don't worry Pat, we'll watch 
him like a goat." So saying he unlocked the ar- 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 277 

mory, a small closet in the wall, and getting out his 
double-barrel shot gun, put eighteen buck-shot in 
each barrel. Then setting it back, remarked, at 
the same time glancing over in the opposite corner 

at the "Kid" who was sitting on a stool, shackled and 

hand-cuffed: "I bet the man that gets them will 
feel it!" The "Kid" gave one of his hopeful smiles 
and said: "You might be the one to get them 
yourself." 

After Garrett left, the two guards had five more 
prisoners to look after. But they were allowed to 
wear their pistols, for fear of being mobbed by a 
crowd of Tulerosa mexicans who had chased them 
into Lincoln. They had given themselves up to 
Garrett more for protection than anything else. 
They had killed four Tulerosa mexicans, in a hand 
to hand fight, the day before, hence the mob being 
after them. One of those prisoners was a young 
Texan by the name of Chas. Wall, who had received 
two almost fatal bullet wounds in the fracas of the 
day before. It was from this young man, Mr. Wall, 
whom I became personally acquainted with after- 
wards, that I received my information from, in re- 
gard to the "Kid's" escape, etc. 

About five o'clock, that evening, Ollinger took 



278 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

the armed prisoners across the street, to the hotel, 
to supper, leaving Bell to guard the "Kid." 

According to what the "Kid" told after his escape. 
Bell became interested in a newspaper, and while 
thus engaged, he slipped one of his hand-cuffs, which 
he could have done long before if the right chance 
had been presented, and made a leap towards his 
guard, using the hand-cuff as a weapon. 

Bell almost fainted on looking up from his paper. 
He broke for the door after receiving a stunning 
lick over the head with the hand-cuff. But the 
"Kid" was right at his heels; and when he got to 
the door and started downstairs the "Kid" reached 
forward and jerked the frightened man's pistol which 
still hung at his side, he having never made an effort 
to pull it. Bell fell dead out in the back yard, near 
the foot of the stairs, with a bullet hole through his 
body. 

"Kid" then hobbled, or jumped, his legs being 
still shackled, to the armory and kicking the door 
open secured Ollinger's shot-gun, which contained 
the eighteen buck-shot in each barrel. Then spring- 
ing to an open window, in an adjoining room, under 
which the other guard would have to come to get 



BV CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 2/9 

Up Stairs, he waited patiently for his "meat," as he 
termed it. 

He hadn't waited long though when Ollinger, 
who had started on hearing the shooting, came 
trotting under the window. "Kid" called in a pleasant 
voice: "Hello, Bob!" Robert looked up, but just 
in time to receive eighteen buck-shot in his breast. 
The "Kid" then walked out onto the balcony, front- 
ing on Main street, and emptied the other barrel into 
the dead body of Ollinger. Then breaking the gun 
in two over the balcony railing he threw the pieces 

at the corpse, saying: "Take that you s of a 

b h! You will never follow me with that eun 

again !" 

This proceeding was witnessed by nearly a hun- 
dred citizens, nearly all of whom sympathized with . 
the "Kid," although they didn't approve of his law- 
breaking. There was a few of his bitter enemies 
in town, though, but they soon hunted their holes, 
each one trying to pull the hole in after him, so as 
to be hid from the outside world. 

After being supplied from the armory with a good 
Winchester, two colts "45" pistols and four belts of 
cartridges, he ordered a file thrown up to him, which 
was done without ceremony; he also ordered the 



28o A TEXAS COW BOY, 

deputy County Clerk's pony and saddle brought out 
into the street, which was also done in double quick 
time. 

The shackles being filed in two he danced around 
on the balcony quite a while, as though he was the 
happiest mortal on earth. 

As he went to mount, the firey pony, which was 
being held out in the street, and which had once 
belonged to him, broke loose and ran back to the 
stable. But he was soon brought back, and this 
time held until the "Kid" was securely seated in the 
saddle. 

After bidding everybody in sight adieu he rode 
slowly towards the setting sun, the Winchester still 
gripped in his right hand. But when he arrived at 
the end of Main street he pulled off his hat, and 
waving it over his head, yelled at the top of his 
voice: "Three cheers for Billy the Kid!" Then 
putting spurs to the pony he dashed out of sight. 

After traveling about four miles west he turned 
north-east, across the Capitan mountains, towards 
Ft. Sumner. 

About the first of July, Garrett, who hadn't hunted 
much for the "Kid" since his escape, received a letter 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 28 I 

from a Mr. Brazil, who lived near Ft. Sumner, in- 
forming him of the -Kid's" presence in that vicinity. 

Garrett after answering- the letter, asking Mr. 
Brazil to meet him at a certain spot on a certain 
night, secured the services of John W. Poe, one of 
the whitest and bravest men in the Territory, and 
taking his Deputy. "Kip" McKinnie along, struck 
out for "Sumner" to capture the Kid if possible. 

The little party of three arrived at the mouth of 
Tayban Arroyo, on the Reo Pecos, where Garrett 
had written Brazil to meet him, about dark on the 
night of July 13th. They waited there all night 
and Mr. Brazil failed to show up. 

Mr. Poe being a stranger in that country, and not 
known in the Post, Garrett sent him to the town, a 
distance of five miles, to try and learn, by keeping 
his ears open and mouth shut, of the "Kid's" where- 
abouts, while he and "Kip" would meet him at 
"Sunny-side" a ranch seven miles above "Sumner." 

About sundown Poe met his two companions, at 
Sunny-side, but was no wiser than when he had left 
them. Garrett then concluded that they would all 
ride into the town and if Peet Maxwell was at home 
he could maybe get some information from him. 



282 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Arrivincj in an old orchard back of die Maxwell 
mansion about ten o'clock that night, they tied 
their horses and crawled around to the front of the 
building. 

There was a long porch on the south side of the 
house and about midway was Peet's room, the door 
of which opened onto the porch. Garrett knew 
where the room was, and there they headed for. 

On arriving in the front yard opposite the door 
of Peet's room, which was wide open, the night 
being very hot, Garrett told his companions to lie 
flat down in the grass while he slipped into the 
room. 

He found Peet asleep, but awakened him. He 
then laid down by the side of Peet, and they began 
talking. 

Back of the Maxwell house was an adobe cabin 
in which lived an old mexican Peon. The mexican 
had gone to bed, and by a greasy looking table sat 
the "Kid," who had just come in from the hills. He 
had pulled off his boots to rest his tired feet, and 
was glancing over a newspaper. 

Throwing down the paper he told the Peon to get 
up and cook him some supper, as he was very hungry. 
Being told that there was no meat in the house he 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 283 

picked up a butcher-knife which was lyino- on the 
table, and said: "I will go and get Peetto rustle me a 
piece." He started without either hat or boots. 

While walking along on the porch, butcher-knife 
in hand, he discovered the two men out in the grass, 
and, drawing his pistol, asked in mexican: Quien 
es? Quien es? (Who's there? Who's there?) 
Not getting an answer, the boys thinking he was 
one of the Peons, he backed into the door of Peet's 
room, and then turning towards the bed, which was 
to the left of the door, he asked: "Peet, who is 
that out there?" Not receiving an answer again, 
and being suspicious of some one being in bed with 
Peet, he began backing towards the opposite side 
of the room, at the same time asking: "Who in 
the h — 1 is in here? Who in the h — 1 is in here?" 

Peet whispered to Garrett: "That's him Pat." 
And by that time the "Kid" had backed until the 
light shone full upon him, through one of the south 
windows, giving Garrett a good chance to make a 
center shot. 

Bang! Bang! went Garrett's pistol. The first 
bullet took effect in the "Kid's" heart, while the next 
one struck the ceiling. 



284 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

The remains of what was once a fond mother's 
darling were buried next day in the old dilapidated 
?^Iilitary Cemetery, without a murmer, except from 
one, a pretty young half-breed mexican damsel, 
whose tears, no doubt, has dampened the lonely 
grave more than once. 

Thus ended the life of William H. Bonney, one 
of the coolest-headed, and most daring young out- 
laws that ever lived. He had dwelt upon this 
earth just 2 1 years, seven months and 2 1 days. 



^'^^'^tV' 



Chapter XXVIII. 

WRESTLING WITH A DOSE OF SMALL 
POX ON THE LLANO ESTICADO. 

After leaving Toyah I followed the railroad east 
cross the Reo Pecos, out onto the Llano Esti- 
cado and through the sixty mile stretch of Sand 
Hills. 

At Sand Hill Station, about midway through the 
sand hills, I left the railroad and branched off in a 
north-easterly direction in search of buffalo-hunter's 
camps. Knowing buffalo were getting scarce, and 
having heard of a great many hunters being in the 
vicinity of Ceader Lake, I thought it a good idea 
to go out there and see what kind of game they 
were killing. Being nearly south of the Canadian 
River country, I thought maybe they were killing 
cattle which had drifted down in there durinof the 
winters. But I was mistaken. I found their camps 
black with genuine buffalo hides. There being no 
ranches in that wild scope of country the buffalo,' 



286 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

what few there were left, had nearly all congregated 
in there. 

I played a single-handed game of freeze-out the 
first two nights after leaving the railroad, for there 
came a terrible snow storm, which covered up the 
buffalo-chips, there being no wood in that whole 
country, so that I couldn't make a fire to warm by. 

After striking the first buffalo-camp, then I was 
all right, for I could get directions how to find the 
next one, etc. 

I finally, by circling around to the east, and then 
south, struck the railroad again, and landed in the 
town of Big Springs; where I was mistaken for a 
horse-thief, whom I answered the description of, 
and told to "skip" by one of my friends, a stranger 
who recognized me as the turkey shooter from 
Toyah. I didn't skip; and the thing was finally 
straightened up to their entire satisfaction. 

I was out of money by this time, but found a 
draft in the express office awaiting me. Not hav- 
ing any particular use for the draft I swapped it off 
for a hundred dollars in money, to the express 
manager. 

After looking through a few herds around the 
Springs I pulled north-east for the head of Colorado 



BY CllAS. A. SIRINGO. 287 

River, to take a look over the Lum Slaughter range, 
which extended from the head of Colorado River 
down to Colorado City on the railroad, a distance 
of about sixty miles. I went to all the sign camps, 
and also the head-quarter ranch, but didn't let my 
business, residence or name be known, which caused 
the boys to believe I was "on the dodge." 

I rode into the lively litde town of Colorado City 
one afternoon about four o'clock, and imagine my 
surprise at meeting Miss Bulah Newell on her way 
home from school. She and Mrs. Newell had left 
Toyah shordy after I did. They had left Mr. 
Newell at home to run the Hotel. And Mrs. Newell 
had accompanied Bulah to Colorado City, the nearest 
place where there was a school, so as to keep "the 
wild ratded-brain girl," as she called her, under her 
wing. They had rented a little cottage and were 
keeping house. 

I ran out of money shordy after striking Colorado 
City, my expenses being high, having to pay three 
dollars a day to keep my two horses at a feed stable, 
and one dollar and a half per day for my own board, 
lodging, etc., but found a good friend, Mr. Snyder, 
a merchant, who let me have all I v/anted on my 
good looks until I could write to the ranch for some. 



288 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

While waiting for an answer to my letter I would 
put in my spare time taking little spins out into 
the country, looking through herds of cattle, etc. 
The longest trip I made was three days, down on the 
Concho River, and that was just two days and a half 
longer than I cared to be away from Miss Bulah. 

The mail finally brought two hundred dollars 
worth of "L. X." drafts, wrapped up in a letter from 
Mr. Erskine Clement, reminding me of the fact that 
his company wasn't a First National Bank. This 
of course was a hint for me to be more economical. 

Having to be in Mesilla, New Mexico, a distance 
of five hundred and fifty miles, by the last of March, 
and wanting to look over some small cattle ranges 
on the route, I struck out. I hated to leave Color- 
ado City on account of Bulah, but was anxious to 
leave on account of the small-pox beginning to 
spread there. 

A forty-mile ride brought me to Big Springs, 
where I lay two days with a burning fever. The 
morning of the third day I pulled out, across the 
Staked Plains for the Reo Pecos, still feeling sick. 

That night I stopped at one of the section houses, 
which were located every ten miles along the rail- 
road. And the next morning after riding about five 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 289 

miles I became so sick that I had to dismount and 
lie down in the grass. After groaning and tum- 
bling around about two hours I fell asleep. 

About sundown an east bound freight train came 
along, which scared my ponies and awakened me. 
I felt terribly; my lips were parched, my bones 
ached and my tongue felt as though it was swollen 
out of shape. I started to lie down again, after the 
noise from the passing train had died out, but there 
being an ugly looking black cloud in the north, 
which indicated a norther, I concluded to brace up 
and ride to the next section house, a distance of 
about five miles. 

Arriving there, just as a cold norther was spring- 
ing up, and riding up to the fence I called: "Hello!" 
in a feeble voice. A gentleman came out, and on 
informing him that I was sick, he told me to go in 
the house, that he would unsaddle and take care of 
my horses. 

I walked into a large room where a nice blazing 
fire greeted my eyes. There was a lady sitting by 
the fire sewing. On looking up at me, as I stepped 
into the door, she gave a scream, which brought her 
husband in on the double quick. "Small-pox, small- 
pox," was all she could say. The gentleman looked 



290 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

at me and asked: "Are you from Colorado City?" 
"Yes," was my answer. "Well, you have got it, and 
I am sorry we can't keep you here to-night. I hate 
to turn a sick man out such a night as this, but I 
have got a wife and three little children here whose 
lives are at stake. 

I had never thought of small-pox since leaving 
Colorado City, until the good lady put me in mind 
of it. 

Oh, how my heart did ache at the thoughts of 
that dreadful disease, and having to go out into the 
cold night air. It was pitch dark and beginning to 
sleet when I mounted and struck out, west, aiming 
to go on to the next section house, ten miles, and 
try my luck there. 

About half an hour after the light over my shoul- 
der had disappeared I began to grow weaker, so 
much so that I could hardly sit on my saddle. 
So finally, dismounting, I unsaddled and staking the 
two hungry ponies out to a telegraph pole, rolled 
myself up in my blankets, my saddle for a piIlow» 
and went to sleep. 

I awakened just as day was breaking. The 
ground was covered with snow, and I was almost 
frozen. I felt as though I had been sent for and 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 29 1 

couldn't go. My mouth, I could tell by feeling it, 
was covered with sores, in fact it was one solid scab, 
and so were my shoulders and back. Strange to 
say there wasn't a sore on any other part of my 
body. Those sores on my mouth was what attracted 
the lady's attention tlie evening before, although 
they had just began to show themselves then. 

With great difficulty I saddled up and continued 
on towards the section house. This time I made 
up my mind not to let the folk's know where I was 
from, and if they had cheek enough to ask I in- 
tended to say Ft. Concho. To avoid the sores on 
my mouth being seen I tied a silk handkerchief 
around it. And should they ask any questions about 
that, I intended telling them I had some fever blis- 
ters on my mouth. 

I found only one man, the cook, at the Section 
house this time, the section hands having gone to 
work. I was treated like a white head by the cook, 
who no doubt took me for a desperado or horse- 
thief, by my looks. He thought no doubt the 
handkerchief was tied over my face to keep from 
being recognized. 

I informed him that I was feeling bad and would 
like to lie down a few moments, etc. He led the 



292 A TEXAS COW BOY , 

way up stairs where the section hands slept and 
told me to occupy any of the dirty looking- beds 
there. I laid down and told him to bring me up a 
cup of coffee. He brought up a good breakfast 
and after he left I undone the handkerchief and 
tried to eat, but couldn't, on account of my tongue 
being so badly swollen. 

I found a looking glass in the room and took a 
squint at myself, and must say that I was indeed a 
frightful looking aspect, my face from nose to chin 
being a solid scab and terribly swollen. No wonder 
I frightened the lady so badly, I thought. 

After drinking the hot cup of coffee I went down 
stairs, gave the cook a silver dollar for his kindness 
and pulled out. I was very anxious to get to a 
doctor, and Toyah was the nearest place to find one 
unless I turned back to Colorado City, which I 
hated to do on account of havincr to attend court in 
Mesilla, soon. 

I arrived in Toyah about noon of the sixth day 
out from Big Springs. I headed straight for the 
Alverado House and who do you suppose was 
standing in the door .when I rode up? Miss Bulah. 
The small pox had scared her and her mother away 
from Colorado City. The first thing she said was: 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 293 

"Hello, what's the matter with your face ?" "Noth- 
ing but fever blisters." was my answer. 

I didn't dismount, for fear of giving the pretty 
little miss the small pox, but rode a few blocks to 
Doctor Roberson's office, telling her that I was go- 
ing after some fever medicine and would be back in 
a few minutes. 

The Doctor informed me that the danger was all 
over with, and that, if I hadn't been made of good 
stuff, I would have surely died, being exposed to 
bad weather, etc. He gave me some salve to dry 
up the sores, that being all there was to do at that 
stage of the disease, he said, and advised me to 
leave town, for said he: "If the citizens discover 
that you have had the small pox, they will have you 
taken to the pest house, where there are already 
three occupants, although the danger of it being 
catching from you is past." I assured him that I 
would fix it so they wouldn't find it out. 

On arriving back to the Alverado House, my face 
still tied up, I hired a boy to take care of my ponies 
and then telling Miss Bulah that I wanted a room 
to myself, I went to bed. 

Bulah would bring my meals into the room and 
sometimes sit down to wait until I got through 



294 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

eating, but I would never commence until she left. 
I would generally let her stay until she got ready 
to go, telling her that I wasn't hungry just then, but 
would try and eat it after awhile, etc. She would 
finally get tired and go, then I would lock the 
door and undo the handkerchief from my face. I 
kept this up a week, before eating my meals at the 
table with the rest of the boarders. 

I finally struck out for El Paso, two hundred 
miles over a dry, waterless plain, and another hun- 
dred up the Rio Grande valley, making three 
hundred miles in all. 

I hove in sight of the Rio Grande River one 
morning, but never got there until sundown. 

When I arrived within a few miles of the river 
I noticed a covered wagon and what I supposed to 
be a camp, down the valley, about three miles out 
of my way. I finally concluded to turn off and go 
and stop with whoever they were for the night. 

I found it to be a mexican camp, an old man, 
two boys and a grown girl. They had come from 
Larado and were on their way to El Paso. They 
gave me a hearty welcome. 

Next morning about daylight I got up and went 
out to change Croppy, he having been staked and 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 295 

Buckshot hobbled the evening before, in a fresh 
place, but lo, and behold ! there was nothing there 
but the stake. 

I circled around and found both of the ponies 
tracks leadingf towards the river, a few hundred 
yards west, I followed, and found they had crossed 
over. After standing on the bank a few seconds, 
dreading to get wet, I went over too. The water 
was only about waist deep. 

Near the water's edge on the other side I found 
some mocassin tracks in the soft sand. I could see 
through the whole thing then, from indications, etc: 
two footmen, who wore mocassins, had stolen my 
horses and pulled into Old Mexico for safety. Where 
the tracks were visible in the sand, there was no 
doubt, they had dismounted and taken a farewell 
drink, or maybe filled a canteen, before leaving 
the river. 

After following the trail, there being just the 
tracks of two horses, a few hundred yards out from 
the river I turned and went back to camp, to tr)- 
and hire the old mexican's horse to follow them on. 

The old fellow only had one pony, his team being 
oxen and I had to talk like a Dutch uncle to get it, 
as he argued that I was liable to get killed and he 



296 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

lose the pony by the operation. I finally though 
put up the price of the horse as security and prom- 
ised the old fellow ten dollars a day for the use of 
him, when I returned. This seemed to give satis- 
faction, even with the two boys who would have to 
hoof it after the oxen every morning, in case the 
pony never returned. 

Just about sundown as I turned a sharp curve, 
near the top of the long chain of high mountains 
which run parallel with the river, I came in sight of 
both of my ponies staked to a pinyon tree, grazing. 

I immediately rode out of sight, dismounted, tied 
my tired pony to a tree and crawled to the top of a 
knoll, where I could see the surrounding country 
for half a mile around. But I couldn't see a living 
thing except the two horses, and the one I had just 
left. 

Finally, bang! went a shot, which sounded to be 
at least half a mile away, on the opposite side of 
the mountains. 

Thinks I now there's either a ranch over there 
and the two thieves have walked to it, to keep from 
being seen with the horses, or else they have gone 
out hunting to kill something for supper. At any 
rate I took advantage of their absence and stole my 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 297 

ponies back. Near where they were tied was a 
small spring of cool water; the first water I had 
seen since leaving the river. 

After taking a hasty drink myself, and letting the 
pony I was on, fill up, the other two not being dry, 
I took a straight shoot down grade, for the "eastern 
shores of the Rio Grande," a distance of about 
thirty-five miles. It was then nearly dark. 

I arrived in camp next morning just as the big 
yellow sun was peeping over the top of the Sierra 
Blanco mountains; and the old mexican, who was 
awaiting my return, was glad to see me back. 

That night I stopped with an old fat fellow by the 
name of Chas. Willson, in the little town of Camp 
Rice, and the next night I put up in the beautiful 
town of San Elizario, which is situated in the centre 
of the garden spot of the whole Rio Grande valley. 

The next morning I crossed the river into Old 
Mexico and took a three day's hunt through the 
mountains in search of a herd which had come from 
the north, and had crossed the river at San Elizario 
about a week before. I found it, but was unac- 
quainted with any of the brands that the cattle wore. 
The herd had been stolen though, I think, from the 
way the men acted. 



298 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

I finally landed in El Paso and found a letter in 
the Post Office from John Poe, written at Lincoln, 
New Mexico, advising me not to go to Mesilla until 
the day that Court set, as Cohglin, who was out on 
bond, was there and might have my light blown 
out, I being one of the main witnesses against him. 
Also, it had been reported that he had said he would 
give five thousand dollars to get me out of the way, 
He furthermore advised me in the letter to take 
the train from El Paso, as the old fellow might have 
some mexicans watching along the road for me. 



Chapter XXIX. 
IN LOVE WITH A MEXICAN GIRL. 

I found El Paso, to be a red-hot town of about 
three thousand inhabitants. There were also 
about that number of people in Paso Del Norte, 
across the river in Old Mexico. I spent several 
days in each place. 

I finally, after leaving my ponies in good hands, 
boarded one of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa 
Fe trains for Las Cruces, two and a half miles from 
Mesilla, the county seat. 

There being better accommodations, in the way 
of Hotels, in "Cruces," nearly every one who was 
attending court would stop there and ride to the 
county seat in one of the "hacks" which made 
hourly trips between the two places. Consequently 
I put up at the Montezuma House, in Las Cruces, 

There were several Lincoln County boys there 
when I arrived. Poe and Garrett came down next 
day. Mr. and Mrs. Nesbeth also came as witnesses 
against Cohglin. Mrs. Nesbeth had heard Mr. 
Cohglin make the contract with, "Billy the Kid," to 



300 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

buy all the stolen cattle he would bring to his ranch. 
But the good lady didn't live long afterwards, for 
she, her husband, a stranger, who was going from 
"Cruces" to Tulerosa with them, and a little girl 
whom they had adopted were all murdered by un- 
known parties. Cohglin was accused of having the 
crime committed, but after fighting the case through 
the courts, he finally came clear. 

A few days after my arrival in Las Cruces I went 
back to El Paso after my ponies. I ate dinner 
there and rode into Las Cruces about sundown. A 
pretty quick fifty-five mile ride, considering part of 
it being over a rough mountain road. The cause of 
my hurry was, we couldn't tell what minute the 
Cohglin case would be called up for trial. 

I had a little love scrape while loafing in Las 
Cruces. I don't mention it because my love scrapes 
were so scarce, but because it was with a Mexican 
girl, and under curious circumstances, that is, the 
circumstances were curious from the fact that we 
became personally acquainted and never spoke to 
one another, except by signs, and through letters. 

Her name was Magdalena Ochoa, niece to the 
rich Bankers Ochoa's in El Paso, Tucson, Arizona, 
and Chihuahua, Old Mexico, and she was sweet six- 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 3OI 

teen. She lived with her grandmother, whose 
residence was right straight across the street from 
the Montezuma Hotel, and who wouldn't let a young 
man, unless he was a Peon, come inside of her 
house. And she wouldn't let Maofdalena o-q out of 
her sight, for fear she would let some of the young 
"Gringoes" make love to her. 

I first saw her one Sunday morning when she 
and her grandmother were going to church. I 
was standing- out in front of the Hotel huofmnof an 
awning post, and wishing that I had something 
more human-like to hug, when they passed within 
a few feet of me. The girl looked up, our eyes 
met, and such a pair of eyes I had never seen. 
They sparkled like diamonds, and were imbedded 
in as pretty a face as was ever moulded. Her form 
was perfection itself; she had only one drawback 
that I didn't like and that was her grandmother. I 
immediately unwound my arms from around the 
post and started to church too. 

The church house was a very large building, and 
the altar was in one end. The couple I was follow- 
ing walked up near the altar and took a seat on the 
right hand side — on the dirt floor, there being no 
such thing as seats in the building — which was re- 



302 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

served for ladies, while the left hand side, of the 
narrow passage way, was for the men. I squatted 
myself down opposite the two, and every now and 
then the pretty little miss would cast sparks from 
her coal black eyes over towards me which would 
chill my very soul with delight. 

When church was over I followed, to find out 
where she lived. I was exceedingly happy when I 
found she was a near neighbor to me, being only a 
few steps across the street. 

I spent the rest of that day setting out under the 
awning in front of the Hotel, straining my eyes in 
hopes of getting a glimpse of her beautiful form 
through the large bay window which opened out 
from the nicely furnished parlor onto the street. 
But not a glimpse did I get. I retired that night 
with the vision of a lovely sunburnt angel floating 
before my eyes. 

The next morning I went to Mesilla and answered 
to my name when it was called, by the Judge, and 
then told Poe that I had some very important bus- 
iness to attend to in "Cruces" and for him, in case 
the Cohglin case was called, to hire a man at my 
expense and send him after me. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 



J^O 



On arriving back to the Hotel I took a seat in an 
old arm-chair under the awning. I was all alone, 
nearly every one being in Mesilla. 

Finally Magdalena brought her sewing and sat 
down among the flowers in the bay window. It was 
indeed a lovely picture, and would have been a case 
of "love among the roses" if it hadn't been for her 
old grandparent, who every now and then appeared 
in the parlor. 

At last I, having a good chance, no one being in 
sight but her and I, threw a kiss, to see how I stood 
in her estimation. She immediately darted out of 
sight, but soon re-appeared and peeping around a 
cluster of roses, returned the compliment. She 
then left the room and I never seen her ag-ain till 
after dinner. 

I then started into the Hotel, but was detained by 
a voice calling, through the closed blinds of a win- 
dow near by: "Me ketch you! Me ketch you!" 
Come to find out it was the proprietor's wife, Mrs. 
Duper, an old mexican lady, who had been watch- 
ing our maneuvers. She then opened the blinds 
and asked me in broken English, what I was trying 
to do? 



304 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

"Oh, nothing, much, just trying to catch on, is 
all;" was my answer. 

The old lady then broke out in one of her jovial 
fits and said: "You ketch on? Me bet you ten 
tousand dollars you no ketch him !" She then went 
on and told me how closely the old lady "Grandma 
Ochoa" watched her young niece. In fact, she gave 
me the girl's history from the time of her birth: Her 
father and mother were both dead and she, being 
the only child, was worth over a million dollars, all 
in her own name. This of course was good news 
to me, as it gave my love a solid foundation, and 
spread a kind of gold-like lining over the young 
lady's beauty. 

Finally, after court had been in session two weeks 
the Cohglin case was called up. His lawyers were 
Col. Rynerson and Thornton, while the Territory 
was represented by Newcomb, District Attorney, 
and A. J. Fountain whose services Poe had secured. 

Mr. Cohglin began to grow restless, for the "Pen" 
stared him in the face. There were eight indict- 
ments against him, but the worst one was where he 
had butchered the cattle after being notified by me 
not to. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 3O5 

His only hopes now was to "sugar" the prose- 
cuting Attorney, and that no doubt was easily done, 
or at least it would have looked easy to a man up a 
tree. You see Cohglin was worth at least a hun- 
dred thousand dollars, and therefore could well 
afford to do a litde sugaring, especially to keep out 
of the Penitentiary. At any rate whether the At- 
torney was bought off or not, the trial was put off, 
on account of illness on said Attorney's part, until 
the last days of court. 

When the case came up again Mr. Prosecuting 
Attorney was confined to his room on account of 
a severe attack of cramp-colic. Judge Bristol was 
mad, and so was Poe. They could see through the 
whole thing now. 

That night Cohglin made a proposition that he 
would plead guilty to buying stolen catde knowing 
they were stolen, if the one case in which he had 
killed cattle after being nodfied not to, would be 
dismissed, or thrown entirely out of court. 

It was finally decided to do that, as then he could 
be sued for damages, so" the next day he plead 
guilty to the above charge, and was fined one hun- 
dred and fifty dollars besides costs. 



306 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Fountain, our lawyer then entered suit against 
him for ten thousand dollars damag-e. 

I was then relieved. My mileage and witness 
fees amounted to something over a hundred dollars, 
this time. Of course that was appreciated as it was 
my own, over and above my wages. It came handy 
too as I was almost broke and needed it to take me 
home. I had spent all of my own money, besides 
nearly one hundred and fifty dollars borrowed from 
Poel 

It was the first day of May, I think, when I 
mounted Croppy in front of the Hotel, threw a fare- 
well kiss at Miss Magdalena, who was standing in 
the bay-window, and started east, in company with 
Chas. Wall — the young man I mentioned as being 
a prisoner in Lincoln at the time of "Kid's" escape. 
I hated to part with the pleasant smiles of my little 
mexican sweetheart, but then it had to be done. I 
still hold a rose and a bundle of beautifully written 
letters to remember her by. 

We stopped at San Augustine the first night out 
from "Cruces," and from there we struck south-east 
across the white sands for the mouth of Dog can- 
yon — the noted rendezvous of old Victoria and his 
band of blooci-tliirsty Apache's. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 307 

I had heard so much about this beautiful Dog 
canyon that I concluded to see it before going home, 
so that if it proved to be as represented I could 
secure it for a cattle ranch. 

It was a ticklish job going there by ourselves, as 
a telegram was received in Las Cruces, the morn- 
ing we left, that a band of Apache's had crossed 
the Rio Grande at Colorow, killing three men there, 
and were headed toward Dog 'canyon. But I had 
faith in Croppy and Buckshot, they being well rested 
and hog fat, carrying us out of danger should we 
come in contact with them. 

We arrived at the noted canyon after being away 
from water nearly two days. It was a lovely place, 
at the foot of Gandalupe mountains. 

After leaving there we went through the follow- 
ing towns: La Luz, Tulerosa, South Fork and Ft. 
Stanton. 

At the last named place Charlie Wall left me, and 
I continued on alone. 

I remained in White Oaks a few days, looking 
over my town property,. I having bought some lots 
and built cabins thereon, and examining the ' Old 
Panhandle Tiger" gold mine, the one Stone, Cham- 
bers and I owned. I had some of the rock assayed 



308 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

and it run twelve dollars in gold to the ton, besides 
a few ounces in silver and about two million dollars 
worth of hopes. 

From White Oaks I went through Anton Chico, 
San Lorenzo, Liberty and Tascosa, and arrived at 
the "L. X." ranch after an absence of nearly eight 
months, and about a three thousand mile ride. 



^^:^^^tx' 



Chapter XXX. 

A SUDDEN LEAP FROM COW BOY TO 
MERCHANT. 

About the first of July, shortly after my return, 
. Hollicott sent me to Kansas with a herd of 
eight hundred fat steers. My outfit consisted of a 
cook, chuck wagon, five riders, and six horses to 
the rider. 

We arrived in Caldwell, Kansas, near the north- 
ern line of the Indian Territory, about September 
the first. 

After putting the cattle aboard of the cars, and 
giving them a send-off towards Chicago, we all 
proceeded to take in the "Queen City of the Border," 
as Caldwell is called. I immediately fell in love 
with the town, also with a couple of young ladies, 
and therefore concluded to locate. I bought some 
lots and contracted a house built, with a view of 
going after mother. 

I then struck out with my outfit to attend the fall 
round-ups in the vicinity of Camp Supply, Indian 



31 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Territory. Returning to Caldwell the latter part of 
November, I boarded a train for Southern Texas, 
after mother, by way of Saint Louis to visit my 
sister whom I hadn't seen for thirteen long years. 

I arrived in Saint Louis one evening — just in time 
to let an old flop-eared Jew take me in to the extent 
of a hundred dollars for a lot of snide jewelry and 
a Jim-Crow suit of clothes. 

Not caring to hunt sister until morning I went to 
the Planter's House to put up for the night, and to 
note the change of twelve years. 

After taking a bath and getting into my new rig- 
ging, I took a straight shoot for the office to make 
inquiries about the old boys. I found a long-legged 
youth behind the counter who, on asking how many 
of the old hands of twelve years ago were still 
there, pointed out Jimmy Byron, the kid I had the 
fight with, behind the cigar and news stand, across 
the hall. He was very busy at the time dishing out 
cigars, etc. to the scores of old fat roosters and lean 
dudes who were hurrying out after having eaten 
their supper. 

The rush was finally over and then I made myself 
known. He was terribly glad, as well as surprised 
to see me. We had parted as enemies but now met 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 3 I I 

as friends. He informed me that there wasn't but 
three, besides himself, of the old outfit left, and 
those were the old steward, who was now proprietor, 
"Old" Mike, who was still acting as night watchman, 
and Cunningham, the fellow who had slapped me 
and who was still clerk. The latter gentleman I 
didn't get to shake hands with as he failed to put 
in an appearance during my stay. 

The next morning I struck out to hunt sister. I 
was armed with an old letter which gave the ad- 
dress, therefore had no trouble in finding her. 

She was alone with her three pretty little girls, 
her husband having gone up town to his place of 
business — a drug store — when I found her. 

The first thing she asked after kissing me, was, 
where I got my new suit? 

Of course I had to acknowledge that I bought 
them from a Jew on Fourth street. 

She then became frantic and wanted to know 
why in the world I didn't go to Humphry's and get 
them? 

"Who in the dickens is Humphry?" I asked. 

"Why, I thought everybody knew Mr. Humphry," 
she continued. 



312 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

She took me up town to this great estabHshment 
of Humphry's that evening and there I learnt how 
badly I had been bitten by the Jew. 

I remained in the city about a week and my 
brother-in-law spent most of his time showing me 
the sights. 

Before taking the train for Texas I bought mother 
a trunk full of clothes, knowing that she would be 
in need of them after having "roughed it" for 
nearly eight years. 

I stopped in Houston one day looking for Aunt 
Mary, but learnt finally that she had moved to 
the country. 

I then took in Galveston and spent two days vis- 
iting Uncle Nick and Aunt Julia. From there I went 
to Indianola on a Morgan Steamship and became 
sea sick; Oh, Lord! I concluded I would prefer the 
hurricane deck of a Spanish pony to that of a ship, 
every time. 

In the town of Indianola I met a lot of my old 
Peninsula playmates, who were there from Mata- 
gorda, in their sail boats, with freight. 

There being no boats down from Tresspalacious, 
I left my trunk to be shipped up the first chance and 
went to Matagorda with the two Williams' boys, 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 313 

Johnny and Jimmy. Nearly all the Peninsula folks 
lived in the vicinity of Matagorda now since the 
great storm of 1875, washed everything they had 
out into the Gulf, besides drowninof about half of 
their number. Hence me going to Matagorda to 
visit them. 

There were three Tresspalacious boys in Mata- 
gorda, and one of them, Jim Keller, loaned me 
his horse and saddle to ride home on. 

Mother was happy when I told her to get ready 
and go to Kansas with me. There was only one 
thing she hated to leave behind, and that was her 
wood pile. She had spent the past two years lug- 
ging wood from along the creek and piling it up 
against her old shanty for "old age," she said. I 
suppose her idea in piling it against the house, on 
all sides, was to keep it from blowing over, should 
some kind of an animal accidently blow its breath 
against it. 

After spending about a week, visiting friends and 
waiting for my trunk to arrive from Indianola, I 
struck out with mother for the enterprising State of 
Kansas. 

I hired a neighbor, Mr. Cornelious, to take us to 
the Railroad, fifty miles north. He hauled us in 



314 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

an old go cart — one that had been sent from Ger- 
many in 1 71 2 — drawn by two brindle oxen. 

We arrived in Caldwell a few days before- Christ- 
mas and after eettinof mother established in her 
new house, I went to work for the "L. X." company 
aofain, 

I had secured a winter's job from Mr. Beals before 
leaving therefore it was all ready for me to take 
charge of on my return. The job was feeding and 
taking care of about two hundred head of horses, 
at the company's ranch on the Territory line, near 
Caldwell. 

Having lots of fat ponies to ride, I used to take 
a dash up town nearly every night to see how 
mother was getting along and to see my sweet- 
hearts. Thus the winter passed off pleasantly. 

About the first of March I received orders from 
Mr. Beals, who was then at his home in Boston, 
Mass , to get everything in shape to start for the 
Panhandle at a moment's notice. 

That very night, after those orders were received, 
I fell head over heels in love with a pretty little 
fifteen-year old, black-eyed miss, whom I accidently 
met. It was a genuine case of love at first sight. 
I wanted her, and wanted her badly, therefore I 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 315 

went to work with a brave heart and my face Hned 
with brass. It required lots of brass too, as I had 
to do considerable figuring with the old gent, she 
being his only daughter. 

Just three days after meeting we were engaged 
and at the end of the next three days we were 
made one. And three days later I was on my way 
to the Panhandle with an outfit of twenty-five men, 
one hundred horses and six wagons. 

An eighteen day's drive, southwest, brought us 
to the "L. X." ranch. After laying there about a 
week, resting up, Hollicott sent me and my outfit 
south to attend the round ups in the Red River 
country. 

We arrived back at the ranch about July the first, 
with three thousand head of "'L. X." cattle which 
had drifted south during the past winter. 

As I was anxious to get back to Kansas to see 
my wife and mother, Hollicott immediately gathered 
eight hundred fat shipping steers and started me. 

I arrived in Caldwell September the first, and 
after shipping the herd, Mr. Beals ordered me to 
take the outfit back to the Panhandle and get an- 
other drove. This of course didn't suit, as I had 
only been at home a few days. But then what could 



3l6 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

I do? I hated to give up a good job, with no pros- 
pects of making a Hving by remaining in town. 

I finally concluded to obey orders, so started 
the men and horses up the Territory line, while I 
and Sprague went to town with the wagon to 
load it with chuck. Mr. Beals had taken the train 
the day before to be absent quite a while. After 
getting the wagon loaded and ready to start, I 
suddenly swore off cow-punching and turned every- 
thing over to Mr. Sprague, who bossed the outfit 
back to the Panhandle. 

The next day I rented a vacant room on Main 
street and, rolling up my sleeves and putting on a 
pair of suspenders, the first I had ever worn, started 
out as a merchant — on a six-bit scale. Thus one 
cow-puncher takes a sensible tumble and drops out 
of the ranks. 

Now, dear reader in bidding you adieu, will say: 
should you not be pleased with the substance of this 
book, I've got nothing to say in defence, as I gave 
you the best I had in my little shop, but before you 
criticise it from a literary standpoint, bear in mind 
that the writer had fits until he was ten years of 
age, and hasn't fully recovered from the effects. 



ADDENDA. 

THOSE WISHING INFORMATION AS TO PROFITS AND 
LOSSES IN THE STOCK BUSINESS AS IT IS CARRIED 
ON AT THE PRESENT DATE, CAN FIND IT — OR 
AT LEAST PART OF IT IN THE FOLLOW- 
ING pages; and also a few words 

OF ADVICE TO THOSE WISHING TO 
SEEK WORK ON THE BROAD CAT- 
TLE RANGES OF THE WEST. 



Part I. 

In Texas several years ago, the cost of raising a 
steer — no matter how old — was fifty cents, that 
being the cost of having him branded when a calf. 

In those days men ran outfits, called "branding 
crowds," for the purpose of branding "mavricks" 
for themselves — and at the same time brand their 
poor neighbors' calves at fifty cents a head. In 
using the word poor, I mean men, or widows, not 
able to run a "crowd" of their own. 

As a general thing the men who conducted those 
"branding crowds" used a forked pencil — that is, 
every time they branded a calf for a neighbor they 
would make a stroke in their day book with this 
double-geared money maker. The consequence 



3l8 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

would naturally be, that the poor widow, or crippled 
Rebel, would have a double number of calves to 
pay for about New Years. But then it turned out 
all right; as in after years the Eastern speculator, 
or "short horn," beo-an to embark into the stock 
business with his eyes shut. That is, buying whole 
"brands" of cattle out according to the old books. 
For instance, if the aforesaid widow, or stove -^p 
"Reb," could show up, and prove, that she or he 
had so many calves branded the past season, the 
buyer would pay for four times as many — that is, 
counting five head of cattle for every calf branded 
the year previous. Thus it will be seen that the 
forked pencil racket proved a blessing to the poor. 
The day though, of inveigling the eastern tender- 
foot into paying for more than he really gets, is past, 
never more to return. 

The cost of raising a three-year old steer on any 
of the great cattle ranges of the west can safely be 
put down at $4.75. That is, at the present time. 
Of course as time glides on and the humane feeling 
which now exists in the east shall invade the west, 
then the cost will be more, as the building of sheds, 
etc., for winter use, will be necessary. 

To get that three-year old steer in Chicago, and 

a check or draft, for him, will cost $5.75, making 
the total cost $10.50. Now the average weight of 



BY CHAS A. SIRINGO. 319 

a three-year old Texas grass fed steer on the 
Chicago market is 950 pounds. And the average 
price per pound, putting it at the lowest notch, is 3 
cents, making the steer bring $28.50 — leaving a net 
profit of $18. 




Part II. 

DRIVING YOUNCx STEERS "UP THE TRAIL" 

AND "WINTERING" THEM, AS A 

MONEY MAKING SCHEME. 

In south, or south-western Texas at the present 
time, you can buy two-year old steers for $io 
a head. And to get them "up the trail" to any of 
the northern ranges, if an average sized herd, which 
is 2500, will cost $1 a head. 

To "winter," or carry those steers over until the 
next shipping time, which is between June and 
October, will cost an additional $2. Now add the 
cost of landing them in Chicago, which I gave you 
above, also at the same weight and price as given 
above, and you have a net profit of I9.75 a head. 
The losses by death, theft, etc., are not included; 
but then you can safely put the losses "coming up 
the trail" at 2 per cent, providing of course that 
you use judgment in hiring experienced men, and 
buying good cow-ponies. And the losses during 
the winter from deaths — if you fed hay during 
stormy weather, which, by the way, was figured on 
when I put the cost of "wintering" at $2 — and 
other causes would be about i ^ per cent. 

Another class of trail steers are yearlings, which 
at the present time are worth in south and south- 
west Texas, $8 a head. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 32 1 

The cost of handling- them is about the same as 
two-year olds. So counting $i a head to drive 
them up the trail, $4 to "double winter" them — that 
is, carry them over two winters — and $5.75 to land 
them in Chicago, and you have a profit of $9.75 — 
the same as for the two-year olds. The only dif- 
ference is, you have had \k\^fu7i of putting in two 
years with the yearlings, which is quite an item, 
providing you don't value time nor money, and like 
the business. 




Part III. 

STARTING INTO THE CATTLE BUSINESS 

WITH 100 HEAD OF TWO YEAR OLD 

HEIFERS— WHAT A YOUNG MAN 

OF ENERGY AND BULL DOG 

GRIT CAN DO IN TEN 

YEARS. 

Being a small bunch, it wouldn't pay to go to 
southern Texas, where cattle are cheap, to buy 
them, therefore you would have to pay about $15 a 
head for your one hundred two-year old cows, de- 
livered to you. By the way, those same animals 
would cost you $10 a head in southern Texas, and 
if a good sized herd, another |i bill per head to 
land them on your ranch — a saving of $4 a head, if 
able to start on a large scale; or lucky enough to 
strike a party who would let you drive in with them. 
Often you can strike just such chances, where a man 
is driving a large herd and will let you put your 
few head in with his — he paying you regular wages, 
and charging you so much a head for driving your 
cattle. By getting a chance like that your wages 
would almost pay the whole expense of getting 
your little bunch onto any of the middle or north- 
ern ranofes. 

After selecting your range, which, if you are a 
"tender-foot," should be as far as possible from a 



BY CHAS. A SIRINGO. 323 

large cattle ranch, you "should invest about $200 in 
four head of nice half-breed bulls — and another 
$200 in Spanish ponies, mostly young mares, so 
you could raise your own cow-ponies. My reason 
for advising you not to get near a large ranch 
is this: your cattle would be continually mixing 
up with your neighbors' herd, and there being 
so many, and scattered over so much territory, 
you couldn't keep track of them. Therefore a 
number of your calves would become "mavricks" 
and be eaten or branded by your generous cow-boy 
neighbors. If you understood the "ropes," and had 
the conscience, like your humble servant, it would 
pay you to get just as near as possible to one of 
those large English cattle syndicates, as then your 
herd would increase faster, and if you wished to sell 
out they would buy at good round figures to get rid 
of you. 

An inexperienced man though starting in, I would 
advise locating, or buying out a Avater right, in the 
mountains of Colorado, Arizona, New Mexico or 
north-western Texas. As by so doing you could 
count every one of your cattle when they came into 
water. Whereas; on the ranges of the plains 
country you have the continual expense and bother 
of rounding-up, cutting out, etc., on account of them 
drifting during storms. In the mountains they find 
shelter and therefore don't drift much. 



324 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

To begin now on your increase for ten years we 
will say that you began in the early spring. If so, 
you would brand 50 calves the coming fall. 

The next fall you would brand 74 head; the next 
96; and the fourth' fall 108 head. Your next brand- 
ing would be 135 head; the next 180. And still 
the next, which would be the seventh fall, 232 head. 
Another summer gone and 270 more frolicking 
calves in your herd. The branding season is over 
again, and another 290 calves. The leaves are fall- 
ing once more and your hot branding-iron has made 
470 more little calves squirm. Now for the next 
branding, at which time you have been in the bus- 
iness a few months over ten years, of 624 calves. 
Thus your increase has run up to 2529 head. Half 
of those are steers which, if you have used ''blooded'' 
btdls, at an average weight of 1000 pounds, and the 
average Chicago price, for that class of stock, of 4 
cents per pound, would make them bring I40 a head. 

Now, deduct the cost of raising those steers, $4.75 
per head, and the cost of landing them in Chicago, 
15.75 per head, and you have a net profit of $36,656. 
The steer calves of the last two brandings, of course 
wouldn't be marketable at the expiration of the 
time, but then we figured them in just to give you a 
rough guess of what your ten years' labor would 
amount to after all the steers had been sold. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 325 

Now, if you have used good judgment in secur- 
ing your water right — that is, far enough from any 
other water so that you wouldn't be bothered with 
neighbors, and thereby have grass enough — you 
can imagine your future income on those 1264 head 
of she cattle — not counting what's left of your nest 
eggs, the first 100 head. You should also figure 
on the value of your stock of ponies, and the in- 
creased value of your ranch property. 

In estimating the above I have figured on your 
putting up a few stacks of prairie hay — although 
you might not need it often ; when you did, it would 
be like the Texan's pistol, you would need it 
like , 




Part IV. 

THE COW-PONY— AND HOW HE IS 

ABUSED ON THE LARGE 

CATTLE RANCHES. 

It requires at least five ponies to each man, on a 
large cattle ranch; on a small one, where the 
amount of work, such as rounding-up, cutting, etc. 
is less, the number can be cut down. 

A cow boy should be allowed to keep the same 
ponies just as long as he remains on the ranch, as 
he becomes attached to them, and they to him. 

If you want to see a cow boy on the war-path, 
and have him quit, just take away one of his good 
ponies. Of course, if he has got one that is "no 
good" he won't kick, as he thinks he might get a 
better one in its place. 

A cow boy always has one or two, "cutting" 
horses in his "mount" which he uses only on special 
occasions — when he wants to "show off." Any of 
his ponies will do to "cut" cattle on, but this one he 
dotes on, is so much better than the rest that he 
keeps him fat and well rested for those special 
occasions. 

To illustrate what the word "cutting" means, will 
try and explain: 

After all the cattle in a radius of from ten to 
twenty miles are driven or run into one bunch, it is 



A TEXAS COW BOY. 327 

called a "round-up." I have seen as high as 50,000 
head in one of diose round-ups. 

Now, we will say diose 50,000 head belong to at 
least 50 different owners. And you being one of 
the owners and wanting to get your cattle home 
onto your own range you would have to put your 
men to work cutting them out — one at a time. Of 
course, once in a while a fellow gets a chance to 
"cut" two or three or half a dozen at a time — for 
instance, where a little bunch is standing on the outer 
edge, where you can dart in and "cut" them out be- 
fore they realize what's up. 

Now to begin, you will send about two men, on 
good "cutting" horses, into the round-up to begin 
"cutting" them out, while the rest of you help hold 
the round-up close together — or into a compact form 
— and ke.ep the ones that are already "cut" out from 
getting back. The "cut" is watched, to keep it from 
getting too far off, by one man. The distance be- 
tween the "cut" and round-up is from one to three 
hundred yards. About two good men on quick 
horses are generally placed between the "cut" and 
round-up, so that when the ones who are "cutting" 
runs an animal out they take it and keep it going 
until it reaches the "cut," or at least gets so near 
that it will go on of its own accord. 

A "cutting" pony to be considered a "Joe-dandy" 
has to be awful quick as well as limber. An old 



328 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

experienced one can be guided with the Httle finger 
— that is, by holding the bridle-reins on the end of 
the little finger. While performing the "cutting" 
act he will move along as though half asleep, until 
the animal is near the outer edge, when all at once 
he will make a spring forward and take the steer or 
cow out at a break neck gait. No matter how the 
animal dodges in its mad effort to get back he will 
be right at its heels or side. Sometimes of course 
the best of "cutting" ponies will fail to bring the 
animal out — especially when tired or over heated, 
or when the animal gets on the war-path and goes 
to fighting. 

The cow-pony is a terribly abused animal, espec- 
ially in large outfits, where so many different men 
are at work. It requires treble the number of men 
on a cow-ranch in the summer that it does in winter, 
therefore it will be seen that most of the cow-ponies 
are subject to a new master every season, if not 
oftener. 

For instance; a man goes to work on a large 
ranch, and is given five or six horses for his regular 
"mount." Maybe he has just hired for a few months, 
during the busiest part of the season, and therefore 
does not care to take the interest in the welfare of 
his ponies, as if he was going to remain for an in- 
definite period. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 329 

Now this man quits late in the fall, and his ponies 
are turned loose on the range to rustle a living as 
best they can until spring, at which time they are 
cauo-ht up again and given to some other new hand, 
who will put them through the same old mill again 

all summer. 

To o-ive you a faint idea of how some of the poor 
dumb brutes suffer, I will try and illustrate — that is, 
dear reader if you will let me use you a few 
moments: 

Now to begin with; lean back, shut your eyes and 
imagine yourself an old knee-sprung, poor, sore- 
backed pony, whose hips and shoulders are scarred 
up with Spanish brands and spur gashes. 

It is now early spring; the green grass is just 
beginning to show itself. You are feeling happy 
after your long rest, and the thoughts of having 
plenty of green, tender grass to eat, instead of having 
to root amongst the snow and ice for a few sprigs 

of dry tasteless herbs. 

But your happiness is of short duration; for here 
comes a crowd of the "old" hands on their fat corn- 
fed ponies to round you in; for spring work is about 
to commence. You break and run, to try and get 
away, but you are too weak ; they soon overtake you, 
and start you towards the "home-ranch." 

You are driven into the corral with the rest of 
your bony looking companions. The old last 



330 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

year's sore on your back has healed up and a new 
coat of hair is just starting to grow over it. 

Here comes the boss down to the corral with a 
lot of new men he has hired for the summer. He 
is oroinp' down to ofive each man a "mount" out of 
the herd of extras, of which, patient reader, you 
are supposed to be one. 

You are leaning against the fence scratching your- 
self when a rope is pitched over your head. 

"Here 'Curly!' you can take this fellow for one of 
yours," yells the boss as he drags you towards the 
gate to meet "Curly," who is coming in a dog-trot 
to put his rope on you. 

Now this man "Curly," your new master, has just 
returned from the east, where he has been spending 
the winter with the old folks, and telling the boys 
around town about the fun he had last summer on 
the staked plains, roping coyotes, etc. A couple of 
those "new" men who are standing at the gate, are 
old playmates whom he has persuaded to leave their 
happy homes and become cow boys too. 

After each man has been supplied with a "mount," 
you are taken out, with the other four or five of 
"Curly's" ponies and turned loose in the "ramutha" 
— the herd of ponies which are to accompany the 
outfit on the "general round-up." 

The outfit has now been on the road two days. 
They have been traveling hard to get to a certain 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 33 1 

place where all the different outfits, for a hundred 
miles, north, south, east and west, w411 meet on a 
certain day to begin "rounding- up." 

The place is reached about sundown. The little 
valley is dotted here and there with white-topped 
wagons — and still they come ; wending their way 
down ravines from every quarter. 

After supper the bosses all meet at one of the 
camps and lay out plans for work on the following 
day. 

Next morning at the first peep of day everybody 
is eating breakfast, in all the different camps. 

The morning meal being over, the "ramutha," 
which has been guarded all night, is driven up to 
camp and each man ropes the horse he wants for 
the days' work. 

"Curly" catches you for the first time, since turn- 
ing you loose in the "ramutha" before leaving the 
ranch. 

When he goes to throw his old shell of a saddle 
on your back, you give a snort and go to pitching — 
like nearly all Spanish ponies, after having rested a 
few months — which causes Mr. "Curly's" blood to 
become riled. So he, after you get your spree out, 
puts a hitch on your nose and begins to tame you, 
by beating you over the head and back with a dou- 
bled rope. 



332 A TEXAS COW BOY. 

He finally gets you saddled, but when he goes to 
mount, you let in to pitching again. But he man- 
ages to stick onto you. 

Everybody being in their saddles the boss tells 
"Bill," one of the old hands, to take "Curly," "Red 
Dick" and "Locoed Tom" (Locoed, meaning crazy) 
and drive down "San Pedro Canyon" to "Buzzard 
Flat" where the round-up will be. 

So "Bill" dashes off on his corn-fed pony for the 
head of "San Pedro Canyon,'' a distance of twenty 
miles, with the other three boys right at his heels. 

You finally step in a badger hole or stub your 
toe against a rock and fall, throwing Mr. "Curly" 
against the ground with a terrible force. 

You jump up and stand trembling from the shock 
you received, while your mad master takes hold of 
the bridle-reins and goes to abusing you for falling — 
not only with his tongue, but by jerking the reins, 
which are attached to the severe Spanish bit, causing 
your mouth to bleed, and kicking you in the stomach 
with the toe of his boot. 

At last he is satisfied and mounts again, by which 
time the other boys are a mile or two off. Being 
such a common occurrence, when you fell they just 
glanced over their shoulders to see if "Curly" was 
killed or not. On seeing him jump up they knew 
he wasn't badly hurt. Hence them keeping right on. 



BY CHAS A. SIRINGO. 



00. 



Now you will have to do "some tall" running, 
under quirt and spur, to overtake the boys. 

Finally the head of "San Pedro Canyon" is reach- 
ed. Everybody dismounts to "fix" their saddles — 
that is, move them back in place and tighten the 
ofirths. "Bill" looks at his watch and finds that an 
hour and ten minutes has been spent in coming the 
twenty miles, over a rough and rocky country. Their' 
ponies are white with sweat, and panting like 
lizards. 

After surveying the surrounding country a few 
moments, "Bill" gives orders thusly: "Curly, you 
gallop over yonder," pointing to a large bunch of 
cattle five miles to the west, "and run those cattle 
down the Canyon; and you," talking to "Red Dick," 
"go after that little bunch yonder, while me and 
' Locoed Tom ' will push everything down the 
Canyon." 

"Curly" starts off by burying both spurs deep 
into your already bloody sides. 

When within half a mile of the cattle, they start 
at full speed, but in the wrong direction; hence 
you have got a three or four mile race, under quirt 
and spur, to run before they are "headed off" and 
turned down the Canyon. 

After getting them turned, and to give them a 
good "send off," so they won't stop running until 
they strike the round-up, where men will be on hand 



334 A TEXAS cow BOY, 

to catch and hold them. "Curly" will fire his pistol a 
few times. 

You are almost out of breath now, and should 
get time to blow awhile, but no, your cruel master, 
who feels good and wants exercise, after being 
housed up all winter, spies a coyote off in the dis- 
tance and starts after it. He chases it five miles 
and then, after firing a few shots to scare it, starts 
back down the Canyon to help the other boys shove 
all the cattle down towards the round-up. 

About eleven o'clock, the round-up, of several 
thousand head, is formed and ready for the "cutting" 
process. 

Towards night the days' work is finished; the 
round-up is turned loose and each outfit starts to 
their respective camp with the little herd, which will 
be held night and day, and which will continue to 
grow larger every day, until too large to conven- 
iently handle, when it will be sent by a few men 
back to the range, from whence they had drifted 
during the winter. 

Camp is reached, and "Curly," in his great anx- 
iety to get to the steaming "grub" or "chuck," which 
the cook has just taken from the fire, jerks the sad- 
dle off and turns you loose without washing )'our 
back — which should be done, especially in hot 
weather — at the same time giving you a kick with 
the toe of his number eight boot. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 335 

You are by this time a pitiful looking sight as you 
trot off towards the "ramutha." But the worst part 
of it is your back. The day has been very hot, 
causing the old last years' sore to become scalded; 
consequently, when the saddle was jerked off, the 
old scab with its new growth of hair, also went, 
having adhered to the blanket. 

We will now drop the curtain a while, as our 
subject is not very pleasant to dwell upon. 



It is morning; and the sun is just peeping over 
yonder tree-tops, which are alive with little birds 
whose sweet melodious songs make the air ring 
with joy. 

But there is no joy nor happiness for you. It is 
your day to be ridden, therefore you are roped and 
dragged up to where "Curly's" saddle lies. The 
bridle is put onto you, and then your lazy master 
picks up the dirty, hard, saddle blankets — which 
have not been washed for a month — and throws them 
over your raw and swollen back. Now for the sad- 
dle, which causes you to squirm and twist; and 
then to add to the pain, imagine a man whose 
weight, counting pistol, leggings and all, is one 
hundred and seventy-five pounds, climbing onto 
that saddle. 



336 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

You can now wake up, dear reader, for we know 
you are disgusted playing the role of a sore-backed 
Spanish cow-pony. 

But don't think for an instant that the majority of 
cow boys are the cruel-hearted wretches, such as 
we have pictured this man "Curly" to be. There 
are though, on every range a few who can discount 
my friend Mr. "Curly" for cruelty. 

Many a christian-hearted boy have I seen quit 
and throw up a paying job rather than ride one of 
those poor sore-backed brutes. 

There should be a law passed in the west making 
it a penitentiary offence for an owner, or head man 
of a ranch to allow, or rather compel, a man to 
ride one of their sore-backed ponies, especially 
after the sore becomes so large that the saddle won't 
cover it, as is often the case. 




Part V. 

WAGES PAID TO COW BOYS.— COST OF 
A "COW-PUNCHERS" OUTFIT, Etc. 

A cow boys outfit is somewhat like a Boston 
dudes' rig, it can be bought for a small or large 
amount of money — according to the purchasers' 
means and inclinations. 

If you wish to put on style, and at the same 
time have a serviceable outfit, you can invest 
$500.00 very handy; that is, by going or send- 
ing to Western Texas, or Old Mexico, the only 
places where such costly outfits are kept. 

Your saddle would cost $100.00, although the 
Mexicans have them as high as $300.00. An- 
other $50.00 for a gold mounted Mexican som- 
braro (hat). And $100.00 for a silver mounted 
bridle and spurs to match. Now a $50.00 saddle- 
blanket to matcli your saddle, and another $25.00 
for a quirt and "Re-etta" (raw-hide rope). Your 
Colt's "45" pearl-handled gold mounted pistol would 
cost $50.00, a Winchester to match, $75.00; and 
$25.00 for a pair of Angora goat leggings, making 
a total of $475.00, leaving $25.00 out of the $500.00, 
to buy a Spanish pony with. 

Years ago costly outfits were worn by nearly all 
Cow-men, but at this day and age they are seldom 
indulged in, for the simple reason that now-a-days 



338 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

it requires more rough and tumble hard work than 
skill to command good wages on a cattle ranch. 
Cattle are becoming so tame, from being bred up 
with short horns, that it requires but very little skill 
and knowledge to be a cow boy. I believe the day 
is not far distant when cow boys will be armed with 
prod-poles — to punch the cattle out of their way — 
instead of fire-arms. Messrs. Colt and Winchester 
will then have to go out of business, or else 
emigrate to "Arkansaw" and open up prod-pole 
factories. 

Well, now for the cost of a common outfit, with 
a few words of advice to the young "tenderfoot" 
who wishes to become a cow-boy. 

Mount a railroad train and go to any of the large 
shipping or "cattle towns." Then purchase a cheap 
pony, for about $25.00; saddle for $25.00; leather 
leggings for $5.00; broad-brimmed white hat, $5.00; 
saddle blankets, which would do to sleep on also, 
$5.00. Another $5.00 bill for spurs, bridle, stake- 
rope, etc. And now for the most important orna- 
ment, the old reliable Colt's "45'' pistol, $12.00. If 
you are foolish enough to go without the latter, the 
cooks at the different ranches where you happen to 
stop will not respect you. Instead of putting the 
handle to your family name, they will call you the 
sore-footed kid, old man Nibbs, or some such 



BY CHAS. A SIRINGO. 339 

names as those. We know from experience that 
the pistol carries much weight with it, and therefore 
especially advise the young "tenderfoot" to buy one, 
even if he has to ride bare-backed, from not havinof 
money enough left to buy a saddle with. 

Having your outfit all ready, the next thing to 
be done is, inquire the distance, north, south and 
west, to the nearest railroad from the town you 
are in. And which ever one is furthest, strike 
right out boldly for it. When you get about Jialf 
way there, stop at the first ranch you come to, even 
if you have to work for your "chuck." The idea is 
to get just as far from a railroad as possible. 

If you go to work for your "chuck." while doing 
so, work just as hard, and if anything a little harder 
than if you were getting wages — and at the same time 
acquire all the knowledge and information possible, 
on the art of running cattle. Finally one of the 
Cow Boys on the ranch will quit, or get killed, and 
you being on hand, will get his place. Or some of 
the neighboring ranchmen might run short of hands, 
and knowing of you being out of employment will 
send after you. 

Your wages will be all the way from $15.00 up to 
$40.00 per month, according to latitude. The fur- 
ther north or northwest you are the higher your 
wages will be — although on the northern ranges 



340 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

your expenses are more than they would be further 
south, on account of requiring warmer clothing and 
bedding during the long and severe winters. 

After you have mastered the cow business thor- 
oughly — that is, learned how not to dread getting 
into mud up to your ears, jumping your horse into 
a swollen stream when the water is freezing, nor run- 
ing your horse at full speed, trying to stop a stam- 
peded herd, on a dark night, when your course has 
to be guided by the sound of the frightened steer's 
hoofs — you can command good wages, which will 
be from $25.00 to $60.00 per month, according to 
latitude as I said before. 

If you are economical, you can save money very 
fast on the range, for your expenses, after your 
outfit is purchased, are very light — in fact almost 
nothing, if you don't use tobacco, gamble nor drink 
whiskey, when you strike a town. 

There are some cattlemen who will let you invest 
your wages in cattle and keep them with theirs, at 
so much a head — about the average cost per head, 
per annum, of running the whole herd, which is a 
small fraction over $1.00. 



Part VI. 

AVERAGE LOSSES ON A CATTLE RANCH 

FROM DEATHS, THEFT, ETC. 

The losses on a large ranch are more than on a 
small one; for the simple reason that the men 
who own the large ones are off spending their time 
and money in the eastern states or across the water; 
depending on the hired boss .whose brain is over- 
taxed figuring on how to successfully take time by 
the fore-lock and make a stake of his own, while 
the small owner exhausts his time, brain and energy 
on the range, among the old, poor cows — trying to 
make them pull through the winter and raise another 
calf. 

The average losses on a large cattle ranch, 
where the range is not overstocked, of course, can 
safely be put down at three per cent. And on small 
ranches about half of that amount. That will 
include losses from theft too — noiv-a-days, since the 
majority of people consider cattle stealing a crime. 
Public opinion is causing lots of the old-time cow 
boys, or cow thieves, to select other occupations; 
for, while they remain on the range, it is hard for 
them to quit their old habits — which at one time 
were considered cute, as well as legitimate. Those 
who are slow to take a tumble, are fast landing up 
behind stone walls. The old-time cow boy will 



342 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

soon be like the buffalo and mustang, a thing of 
the past; although we predict that the former can 
be found in the city of Huntsville, in Texas, for a 
number of years to come. We know of several 
young, healthy ones, friends of ours, who are now 
residing there at the State's expense, and who are 
liable to live far into the next century, at which 
time the buffalo and mustang will have become 
extinct. 




Part VII. 

RAISING COW PONIES AS A MONEY- 
MAKING BUSINESS. 

The cost of raising- a three-year old gilding is not 
any greater than raising a steer of the same 
age. The only difference is, the former requires 
closer and better care. 

P^or an example, we will take a young "tender- 
foot" who has got a capital of $5000.00 to invest in 
the business. 

He should go to south-western Texas as a start- 
ing point. There he could, by taking time, and 
leaving the rail-road towns, where horse buyers 
generally congregate, buy nice, picked three-year 
old mares for $15 a head. 

Now, we will say you buy 1 10 head, counting- the 
10 head for losses on the trail, at a cost of $1,650.00. 
And L;ix saddle ponies, for you and your two men to 
ride, until you can have some of the mares broken, at 
a cost of $150.00 making the total $1800.00. On 
passing through northern Texas, where the horses 
are bred up, you should also make a purchase of 
four young stallions, at a cost of $400.00; making your 
whole live stock expenditure foot up $2,200.00. 



344 A TEXAS cow BOY, 

You should, before starting, hire an experienced 
horse-man — one who wanted a permanent job — to 
whom you would have to pay about $40 per 
month. And your other hired hand could just as 
well be a cheap boy, whose wages would not neces- 
sarily be over $15 per month. 

You could use one of the saddle ponies for a pack 
animal, thereby doing away with the expense of buy- 
ing a wagon, etc. ; but in the long run, it would be best 
to buy a wagon and team, as you would need them 
around the ranch when you got located. The boy, 
or cheap hand, could drive the team, as his services 
would not be needed while on the move; for the 
only time you would need him, badly, would be 
while night-herding. 

In selecting your range the idea would be to 
locate, or buy out, a homestead of 160 acres, en- 
circling a spring or head of a creek, thereby giving 
you a water right for all time to come. The further 
from any other water the better, as then your range 
would be larger. For instance if the water was a 
spring, with water sufficient for three to five thousand 
head of stock, and no other "living" water nearer 
than twenty miles, you could count all the grass for 
ten miles around, yours. And another advantage in 
having such a range, you could count your stock every 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 345 

time they came to water; and besides they wouldn't 

be oontinually mixing up with other people's stock. 

My advice, to a man hunting- such a range as I 

have described above, would be to go either to the 

mountains of Colorado, New Mexico or Arizona. 

Of course there are fine ranges further north, but 

they are more suitable for maturing, than raising, 

stock. 

The first thing to be done after settling on your 

new ranch would be to discharge your cheap hand, 
and thereby cut expenses down. And the next 
thing would be a log house, or dug-out, to live in, 
and a corral to pen your stock in at night until they 
became located. By having a corral, and the herd 
being small, you could save the trouble of night- 
herding. Of course after they become located you 
wouldn't have to watch them, either night or day. 

Even if your water right has cost $1000.00, )ou 
ought to have enough left to keep your small ex- 
penses up until you had some three year-old gildings 
to sell. But if not, you could dispose of the six 
saddle-ponies, and ride mares. . 

Your increase, according to my figures, at the end 
of five years, counting on some mares not having 
colts, losses from death, etc., would be 700 head, 
half of which would be gildings, worth when three 
year-olds I30 unbroke or $40 broke. If sold while 
unbroke the whole bunch would net you $10,500. 



346 A TEXAS COW BOY, 

Your herd would increase very fast the next five 
years. It takes at least that long to get a. ranch on 
its feet. Besides ths value of your range would be 
doubling itself every five years. 

Of course you should put up some hay for winter 
use. If you did not need it, it would do for the next 
winter, if properly cured and stacked. 

We will mention the I'.^ct again that the free and 
easy day of successfully raising stock in the wild 
and woolly west without winter feed, is past; and 
lliank the Lord it is! For it is cruel letting stock 
starve to death. 

From where I sit while penning these lines, on 
this first day of February, 1886, I can look to the 
southward, into the Indian Territory, and see thous- 
ands of poor dumb brutes marching up and down 
those cursed barbed-wire fences up to their knees 
in snow, with a blanket of ice an inch thick on their 
backs, the piercing north wind blowing forty miles 
an hour, and not a sprig of grass in sight. 

Just think of it, ye cattle kings, while sitting in 
your city palaces roasting your shins before a blaz- 
ing fire! But methinks you will be reminded of 
the fact next spring when you come out in your 
special car to attend the general round-ups. Dead 
cattle scattered over the range don't look very nice 
to the average eastern cattle king. 



BY CHAS. A. SIRINGO. 347 

We think when you turn your faces towards the 
rising- sun next fall you will know that there has 
been lots of hay put up — especially those on the 
Plains, or level ranges. From present indications 
and reports, this winter will cook the goose that has 
heretofore laid so many golden eggs. 

Adios Amegos. 





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